The Cat and the Agent
by Artful Doodler
Summary: Frank falls for Mrs. King's niece. But is she all that she seems? Rated M for swearing and love scenes in later chapters.
1. Prologue

It was a cool September night in Mayfair. The night was lit by a full moon and sparkling stars. An unknown figure stands on the roof of a building; their eyes closed listening to the hustle and bustle from the streets below. Suddenly, an alarm sounds from a jewellery store not far from way the figure was. A robber charges out of the store, dropping a few pieces of loot as he goes.

"Stop! Thief!" a man shouted.

"Hey, watch it!" cried a woman.

"Somebody stop that guy!" another man exclaimed.

Listening to the panic from the roof, the figure says to themselves, "I intend to." Opening their eyes, the figure pursues the robber, jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

On the streets below, the robber runs into Hyde Park, to the bandstand where he stops and catches his breath as he leans against one of the pillars, pulling off the balaclava. He opens the bag and looks at the jewellery he stole. He dips his hand in the bag and pulls out a handful of the jewels.

"Beautiful…" he says, admiring the jewels.

"Didn't your mother tell you that stealing is wrong?" a voice calls to the robber.

The robber stuffs the jewels back into the bag and looks around him.

"Who's there? Where are you?" the robber into the night.

The person whistled. "Up here, dummy!"

The robber looks up and sees a silhouette of the figure, with animal ears hidden in the shadows standing on the roof of the bandstand.

"You!" he exclaimed, wide-eyed.

The figure somersaults off the roof. "Yes, it is I – the Cat." The figure steps out of the shadows. The figure was a young dark-skinned female in her early twenties, wearing a black skintight catsuit, showing off her pear shape body, with attached gloves and black ankle boots, accessorized with a matching black utility belt, with ten silver cylindrical cartridges that are attached to the outside of the belt and a silver cat face buckle. She wore a black domino mask over her dark brown eyes and matching black cat ears that sat on top of her head. Her hair was black like her catsuit and wavy where the ends rested on her shoulders and her lips were carmine red.

The Cat pointed at the robber. "You, sir, are about to get your arse whoop if you don't give back those jewels."

The robber pulls out a pocket knife from the inside of his leather jacket. "I like to see you try, kitty-cat."

As the robber lunge towards the cat, she sighs. "Why do they always choose the hard way?"

The Cat dodges the attack. The robber lunges again, but the Cat leaps backwards into the air, arching out of the way of the attack.

"Missed me!" The Cat waved coyly at the robber.

"Grrrrr!" the robber growled before lunging in for a third attack, but this time, the Cat kicks the knife out of his hand and does a roundhouse kick across his face.

The robber staggers back and wipes the blood from the corner of his right lip with his thumb.

"You little bitch!" he snarled. "You're gonna pay for this!"

His hands ball into a fist and he charges at the Cat, but she cartwheels, slashing across his bag with the pocket knife as she passes him. The jewellery falls out of the new opening in the bag.

"Naughty, naughty," The Cat shakes her finger chidingly at her opponent.

"Gah!" The robber sneers disgustedly as he throws the bag down and runs off through the park, with the Cat close behind him.

"You're not gonna get away that easily!" the Cat called to the robber. She reaches to one of the cylinders of her utility belt and pulls out a shuriken and throws it at the robber.

The shuriken misses the robber's head, only snipping off the tops of his hair.

"Ha! Ya missed!" he says, looking behind him to the Cat.

"No, I didn't," said the Cat.

And with that, a tree branch falls and lands on the robber's head, knocking him out.

"I never miss," she says as she catches up to the unconscious robber.

The sirens of the police sound in the distance and a voice telling the police to search the park.

"Looks like I better skedaddle out of here. But not before I present the Metropolitan Police a little parting gift," she grinned mischievously.

xxoOoxx

"Sarge! Here are the jewels!" the male constable called to the female sergeant.

"What about the robber?" she asked the constable as she approached him. He shook his head.

"Sarge, you've got to come and see this," another male voice told the sergeant on her radio. "I'm at the Queen Caroline Memorial."

"I'm on my way, Constable Riley," the sergeant replied.

Ten minutes later, the sergeant arrived at the memorial, but stops in her tracks at the sight she sees.

"Riley!" the sergeant calls to the constable who radioed her.

A young man in his late twenties approached the sergeant. He was tall and medium build, with blond hair and green eyes.

"What the hell is this?!" the sergeant asked Riley.

"This is how we found him, Sarge," Riley replied. "It's the robber."

The robber was tied to a tree near the memorial, blindfolded and gagged, wearing nothing but white boxers. On his bare torso, drawn with a black marker pen, was a face of a cat.

"That damn Cat!" the sergeant said, putting her hands on her hips.


	2. Introductions

**(Jenny's POV)**

I sigh in annoyance.

"Of all the places you got me to work, Aunt 'Mione, you had to choose the place you work – a _school!_" I say to my Aunt Hermione as she drives us to St Hope's High School, where she works as deputy head teacher.

"At least it's a job where you'll get paid. Unlike those voluntary jobs you did where they only paid for your lunch and transport," she tells me.

"But a school? Really?!"

"You should be grateful that I got you this job. In a recession like this, you can't afford to be picky. Besides, I can keep an eye on you at school, rather than me coming home and seeing you do nothing but watch TV, play video games or surfing the web while stuffing your face like a slob."

"I'll rather be doing that than teaching and I quote from you, Aunt H, 'snotty, brain-dead, badly dressed kids who can't spell their own name'."

"Enough! Now you'll be working as a teacher at St Hope's and that is that!"

As we sit silently for the rest of the journey, I cross my arms in a huff and slump lower in my seat, closing my eyes. Even though my Aunt Hermione can be an uptight cow, she's also right. I can't be picky for the jobs I want. The only reason I was lumbered with this job is because when I graduated from university, I only had £100 in my account. So after spending my whole summer looking for a job to help my mum at home, Aunt Hermione suggested it'll be a good idea for me to work at the school she works – St Hope's. Meaning I had to move out of my mum's flat in Hackney, East London to live with my Aunt Hermione and Uncle Richie in Shepherd's Bush, West London. But what my mum and aunt don't know is that I've already got a job. One that I've had since before I started university. I'm a…

The car door slams shuts.

I open my eyes and see that my aunt has already parked the car in the school's car park. She's standing outside the car, pointing at her watch saying, "Let's go."

I unbuckle my seat and climb out of the car. I stare at the building at where I'll now be working. The school looked quaint and comfortable. Then I turn my attention to the pupils coming through the school gates. These pupils are not like any other, while some of the pupils were wearing the regulated school uniform; most of them had replaced their red sweaters with different coloured sweaters or hoodies, accessorising them with chunky wide belts and jewellery.

"What do you think?" Aunt Hermione asks me.

"Well, they certainly known how to dress for school," I say. "They look like their dressed up for a fun day out."

"You can talk! You're dressed up like you're about to go clubbing rather than a teacher."

"I have you know, Aunt 'Mione that what I'm wearing is called smart-casual."

The smart being a bright red tux jacket with black collar and lapel with a black buttoned up shirt underneath and the casual being light blue denim jorts with black opaque suspender tights and black suede lace up ankle boots.

Aunt Hermione sighs and shakes her head at me, then leads me to the school.

"And while you're here, you'll refer to me as Mrs. King, not Aunt 'Mione or Aunt H," she tells me. "Understand?"

"Yes, Mrs King," I reply in a schoolgirl mocking way.

Aunt Hermione glares at me. I quickly avert her gaze as we enter the school.

xxoOoxx

We walk along the corridor to the head teacher's office. Aunt Hermione enters the room and I follow behind. The head is sitting at his desk reading The Sun newspaper.

Aunt Hermione clears her throat. "Good morning, Mr. Flatley."

Mr. Flatley closes the newspaper in haste and quickly stands up from his chair. He's a middle age man in his mid-forties/early fifties. He's tall and had an average body, with light fair hair, blue eyes and glasses. He was wearing a dark grey suit with a navy blue tie. He seems like the opposite of Aunt Hermione – laid-back and easygoing. If you did anything bad at this school, I'm sure he won't even notice, unlike Aunt Hermione.

"Oh, good morning, Mrs King," he says. "How was your summer holiday?"

She spent five of the six weeks caravaning with Uncle Richie – and it rained… throughout the entire time.

"It was quite pleasant, thank you," she tells Mr. Flatley. "This is my niece, Jennifer Brownstone. She'll be joining St Hope's as a teacher."

"Welcome, Miss Brownstone," he says, extending his hand. "Mrs King has told me a lot about you."

"Really? Well, Mrs King has told me some things about you, too, Mr. Flatley," I tell him, shaking his hand. Sweary insulting things.

"How about I type you up a timetable for you, Jenny?" Mrs King heads towards her computer on her desk and starts to type.

"How you seen this, Miss Brownstone?" Mr. Flatley hands me the newspaper. I see the front page headline, 'CATCHA! – The Cat catches Mayfair Robber'. The headline came with a picture of the robber in his boxer shorts being led away by the police. "The Cat has done it again!"

I read the story out loud. "'Mysterious vigilante crime-fighter, the Cat, has not only stopped the robber escaping with jewellery worth thousands of pounds, but has also humiliated him by stripping him to his underwear and tying him to a tree, blindfolded and gagged, with a drawing of a cat's face on his torso by the Queen Caroline Memorial in Hyde Park'."

"She's also made a fool out of the Metropolitan Police," says Mr. Flatley. "And on top of that, she's MI9's second most wanted person."

"The first being the Grandmaster," I reply.

"Right, here we go," says Aunt Hermione, handing me my timetable. "This is your timetable for the Year Tens."

"Why the Year Tens?" I ask.

"Well, since you're not an actual qualified teacher, you'll be working part-time, so you'll be teaching one year group who, let's just say, would understand and can communicate with someone almost their age."

I look at my timetable. It looks pretty good, considering she's assigned me to classes to which I did well in secondary school – Art, Music, I.T., P.E. and English. I'll be teaching Art on Fridays, Music will be on Mondays and Wednesdays (Wednesday being today), PSHE are on Wednesdays, I.T. on Thursdays, P.E. on Mondays and Fridays and English on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

"Now that that's sorted, I'll take you to your classroom. It's almost nine o'clock," says Aunt Hermione.

"Good luck, Miss Brownstone," says Mr. Flatley.

I nod at him and follow Aunt Hermione out of the office.

We walk down the corridor as the bell rings, signalling the start of school. As we walk, Aunt Hermione sees a spilled Coca-Cola bottle of the floor and sighs heavily. I frown knowing it's a waste of good fizzy beverage.

"Honestly, these kids," she says. "I'll have to get Mr. London to clean this up."

"Mr. London?" I ask.

"Frank London is the school caretaker. I'll be sure that at break time he'll show you around the school."

That's all I need. A balding, tubby middle-aged caretaker who could be the sort who'll peek at girls changing while he's up a tree with binoculars showing me round the school.

"Here we are," says Aunt Hermione, stopping outside a classroom. The sound of chatter and laughing reminds me of my school days. Nostalgic much. "Now you wait here, while I'll go and introduce you."

She goes inside and the talks and giggles that I heard five seconds ago abruptly stop.

"Good morning, class," I hear her say.

"Good morning, Mrs King," the class chorus.

"Today, we have a new teacher joining our school and she'll be teaching this class. Please make her feel welcome – Miss Brownstone."

I take a deep breath and turn the handle. In I go. I come into the classroom. The class diverts their attention to me. They stare transfixed, like I've got another head. I guess they wasn't expecting a vibrant twenty-three year old teaching them, but a mousy thirty-something singleton that still lives with her parents and their four cats. I stand in front of the desk by the whiteboard and nod my head.

"Hi," I say.

"I'll leave you to it," says Aunt Hermione, as she leaves the room. I turn to the door where she gives me a little wave and clatter clatters down the corridor in her heels.

"Right!" I say, clapping my hands together, turning my attention to the class. "First things first…"

The class brace themselves.

"No one is allowed to call me Miss Brownstone. It's either Jenny or Jen, maybe Miss B, but not Miss Brownstone. I'm twenty-three, not thirty-three."

The class sigh in relief and nod in agreement.

"Now that that's out of the way, I suppose I should tell you about myself. Then I'm gonna pick random people and you're gonna tell me your name and a bit about yourself. Also, since I won't be able to remember everybody's names, I'll gonna give you nicknames. OK? So… I'm Jenny Brownstone. I enjoy reading comic books, playing video games and shopping and I know fuck all about teaching."

There's a gasp and the class giggle at my outburst, while some are shocked that a teacher swore.

"Cool!" says the boy with the furry hat, sitting at the back.

"Thanks," I say. "I hope no one minds if I swear."

"Not at all, Miss B," says the boy.

"Excellent! What's your name?"

"Timothy Hinklebottom. But I go by my DJ name, Scoop Doggy. I enjoying rapping and spinning records and I hopes to become a DJ like Tim Westwood."

"That's great! And you've already got yourself a nickname so I don't have to think of one. Right, who's next?" I scan around the room until I stop a girl with a hime cut hairstyle with a fuchsia flower clip in her hair, filing her nails. "You, there. What's your name?"

The girl stops filing her nails and flicks her hair. "Davina Berry. I like shopping, fashion and watching reality TV shows, and I hope to become either a reality TV star or a WAG."

"Then I shall name you TOWIE after the ITV2 reality show. Next?" A smiley black girl in a grey St. Hope's hoodie at the front shoots her hand up. "And you are…?"

"Carrie Stewart," she says. "I'm a fitness freak and I hope to compete in the Olympic Games and win gold in gymnastics."

"Very inspiring, Sunny. I decided to call you Sunny because I know that smile you're sporting could brighten up anyone's day." I notice the girl next to Sunny/Carrie. She's an Indian girl with glasses reading a book about Quantum Physics. "What about you?"

"I'm Rose Gupta," she says politely. "I like science and I dream of winning the Noble Prize in Physics."

"Brains will be your name." I point to the boy sitting next to TOWIE. "What your name at the back?"

"Donovan Butler," he says. "I like football and would like to become the next David Beckham."

"Then it's obvious that you'll have the same nickname as him, Golden Balls." An emo girl near the door put her hand up. "Yes?"

"I'm Avril Franklin," she says, putting her hand down. "I care about the environment, animal and human rights and I plan to become an environmentalist so I could stop all wars, poverty and sickness."

"Very good. I'm gonna call you Hippie Girl." I spot the boy next to Hippie Girl. He has shaggy blond hair and blue eyes. "How about you? What your name?"

"Oscar Cole," he says. There's a small pause.

"Don't you have any ambitions or activities you like?" I ask.

Oscar says nothing. He shrugs his shoulders. Hippie Girl nudges him.

"Come on, Oscar. There must be something," she tells him.

"No, no, that's fine, Hippie Girl," I say. "I'm sure John Wayne here is thinking about what his ambitions will be."

"John Wayne?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"After the late actor. He was the epitome of what I call 'the strong silent type' – a man who would convey his resolve and power through a sturdy, deliberate silence. If you don't like that, I can just call you Enigma. You're like a riddle that can't be solved."

"You can say that again," Hippie Girl mutter under her breath.

"I'll take Enigma, please," he says.

"Right, Enigma it is." I smile. "Now we're done with introductions, you guys can get back to whatever you were doing. If anyone wants me, I'll be reading my Cosmo mag."

I sit in the chair by the front desk and whip out my Cosmopolitan magazine from my brown satchel bag. I rest my feet of the desk and start flicking through the pages. As I read, I can vaguely hear the pupils whisper to each other that I'm cool, I'm the best looking teacher in school and I'm the sort of teacher who would give them a sex education any day of the week. I smile to myself and continue reading until the bell goes for the next lesson which was Music. I follow the pupils to the Music Room which is on the ground floor as I have no clue where it is. As the class get settled, I suddenly realise that I actually have to _teach_ these pupils about music. This isn't like the last lesson where everyone gets to piss around and do whatever they want. Christ, everyone's looking at me, waiting for me to start. I swallow. Here goes…

"Right…" I begin. "Let's start with the obvious, shall we? Music… to us… is… an important part of our way of life. Common sayings such as 'the harmony of the spheres' and 'it is music to my ears' point to the notion that music is often ordered and pleasant to listen to."

Some of the class nod in agreement. Good. It's going well. So I continue.

"Performance is the physical expression of music. Often, a musical work is performed once its structure and instrumentation are satisfactory to its creators; however, as it gets performed, it can evolve and change. A performance can either be rehearsed or improvised. Improvisation is a musical idea created without premeditation, while rehearsal is vigorous repetition of an idea until it has achieved cohesion. So that'll be your exercise for this lesson – either perform a song that you know or you can write your own song and perform that. You can work by yourself or in a group. You can also use the instruments here by the whiteboard. You've got fifteen minutes."

Everyone gets stuck in straight away. I sigh in relief knowing that I could get away with teaching a lesson even though I know sod all. I decided that I'm gonna join in on this exercise too. I'll be performing a song I know, but the question is what song? There's so many to choose from. As I have a think, I peer out of the window. It's a dry day with sunny spells. The privet hedges of the suburban gardens over the road are cut into ugly arcs. The bedding plants are crude poster paint colours, set out in unattractive repeating patterns, like wallpaper. The trees have all been pollarded so their branches don't wave in the wind. Suburban nature is not a pretty sight.

"Time's up everyone," I say after fifteen minutes. "Right, you've all been very busy. I hope songs you've got show me who you really are. Who wants to go first?"

Scoop's hand goes up. "Me and my crew will go first."

Scoop and his friends, Homie and JJ, make their way to the front. They decide to do their own song. I say song, it's actually a rap about who they are and their lives at home and at school. Then TOWIE (Davina) goes up next and does her interpretation of Cheryl Cole's Fight for This Love, complete with choreography. Next was Hippie Girl (Avril), though the song that she chose to create sounded like poetry about the night. But it's good, very Gothic, a total stormy night with bats flying and cats stalking and trees tapping on windows and flashes of lightning like spears from hell and the crash of thunder as the devil rides out.

"You've really tried hard, Hippie Girl. Well done," I say. "Anyone else want to go up and perform?"

Everyone goes quiet. No one else wants to perform.

"Come on, guys," I say. "You've all known each other since Year Seven. You can't be that embarrassed to perform in front of each other?"

The class still feel nervous.

"How about if I perform a song I like to show you that there's nothing to be embarrassed about?" I suggest. I notice a piano in the corner by the window and I push it in the middle of the room. "I'll be performing a song I know called Lollipop. Written by a gay man called Mika."

Cracking my fingers, I launch myself into the introduction and when it finished, I open my mouth and start singing.

"I said, sucking too hard on your lollipop  
Hey, love's gonna get you down  
I said, sucking too hard on your lollipop  
Hey, love's gonna get you down

"Sucking too hard on your lollipop  
Or love's gonna get you down  
Sucking too hard on your lollipop  
Or love's gonna get you down

"Say love, say love  
Or love's gonna get you down  
Say love, say love  
Or love's gonna get you down

"I went walking in with my mama one day  
When she warned me what people say  
Live your life until love is found  
'Cause love's gonna get you down

"Take a look at the girl next door  
She's a player and a down right bore  
Jesus loves her, she wants more  
Oh, bad girls get you down

"Singing, sucking too hard on your lollipop  
Or love's gonna get you down  
Sucking too hard on your lollipop  
Or love's gonna get you down

"Say love, say love  
Or love's gonna get you down  
Say love, say love  
Or love's gonna get you down

"Mama told me what I should know  
Too much candy gonna rot your soul  
If she loves you, let her go  
'Cause love only gets you down

"Take a look at the boy like me  
Never stood on my own two feet  
Now I'm blue, as I can be  
Oh, love couldn't get me down

"Singing, sucking too hard on your lollipop  
Or love's gonna get you down  
Sucking too hard on your lollipop  
Or love's gonna get you down

"Say love, say love  
Or love's gonna get you down  
Say love, say love  
Or love's gonna get you down

"I went walking with my mama one day  
When she warned me what people say  
Live your life until love is found  
Or love's gonna get you down

"Singing, sucking too hard on your lollipop  
Or love's gonna get you down  
Sucking too hard on your lollipop  
Or love's gonna get you down

"Say love  
(Say love)  
Say love  
(Say love)  
Or love's gonna get you down

"Say love  
(Say love)  
Say love  
(Say love)  
Or love's gonna get you down

"Mama told me what I should know  
Too much candy gonna rot your soul  
If she loves you, let her go  
'Cause love only gets you down

"Whoa, oh, whoa, oh  
Whoa, oh, lollipop  
Whoa, oh, whoa, oh  
Whoa, oh, lollipop

"Sucking too hard on your lollipop  
Or love's gonna get you down  
Say, sucking too hard on your lollipop  
Hey, love's gonna get you down  
(Lollipop)"

When I finish, I'm rewarded with a warm round of applause and cheering, with Scoop giving a piercing whistle.

"Quieten down, everyone!" I turn to the door and see Aunt Hermione with a moderately attractive man wearing dark blue overalls and glasses. "What is going on here?"

"Oh, hi, Aunt 'Mio… I mean Mrs King," I say, forgetting what Aunt Hermione told me this morning. There's a stilfed gasp as the class whisper among themselves. I should have told them that their deputy head is my aunt. "I was teaching these guys that there's nothing to be embarrassed about performing in front people you know."

"Mm," she says.

"So… what brings you here?"

"I just wanted to see how you are coping with your pupils. But it seems that you're all getting on like a house on fire. Also, I would like to introduce to Mr. Frank London – the caretaker."

Frank holds out his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Brownstone."

I blink at him. He is _so_ not the person I was expecting to look like.

"Jenny?" says Mrs King.

I clear my throat. "Sorry about that. It's nice to meet you, too... Frank," I say, shaking his hand.

School has officially just got interesting.


	3. My Secret

**(Jenny's POV)**

It's morning break and Frank is showing me around the school as I've finished teaching for the day. But I'm not really listening. I just keep mentally telling myself to never ever judge a book by cover. Frank is certainly not the person I'd thought he would be. He is youngish, probably in his thirties. He's tall and slim, with slick back dark brown hair tied up in a little low ponytail and he wore three-piece rimless glasses (the kind Steve Jobs had), complete with facial stubble. But cute as he is, I couldn't get together with him. Not with the big secret I'm holding. I don't want him to know that I'm…

"Miss Brownstone!" Frank calls me out of my thoughts. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine…" I squeak. I clear my throat. "I mean, I'm fine. I'm absolutely fine."

"You sure?"

"Actually, no." I decide to come clean. "It's just… and please don't take this the wrong way. But it's just… you wasn't how I pictured in my head."

"Oh? How did you picture me?"

"Older… balder… fatter… and pervy."

Frank smiles.

I giggle stupidly. "Pretty stupid, right?"

"If it makes you feel any better, I thought you would be someone that I pictured in my head, too."

"What as…?"

"I thought you were the kind of person that would drink heavily, smoke marijuana and only show movies while sleeping through class."

"Well, I guess that taught us not to judge a book by its cover."

"Yeah."

As we continue to walk around the school, I can feel that Frank is staring at me. I glance at him, but he quickly looks away. It's obvious what he's thinking about.

"She's married to my mum's brother," I say.

"What?" he asks.

"That's how Mrs King is my aunt. She's married to my mum's brother. That's what you wanted to ask me, right?"

"N-no. Of course not."

I raise an eyebrow.

"OK, yes."

"Thought so," I say with a smile. "Look, I know my Aunt 'Mione can be an uptight bitch, but she's like that because she wants what's best for everybody."

I then explain to Frank that when Aunt Hermione was a child, her dad ran out on the family. So since she was the oldest, she had to look after her brother and two sisters while her mum had to work two jobs.

"Oh. Wow, I didn't know that," he says.

"Oh, you weren't meant to know." I wave him away. "But if you repeat what I said to anyone, I will come after you."

"I won't tell a soul. Cross my heart."

I laugh at his comment. We continue to walk around the school long after the bell signalling the end of break goes off. Ten minutes after the bell rung, Frank and I end up by a staircase that leads to caretaker's storage cupboard located on the ground floor of the school.

"Well, that's it for the tour," says Frank. I didn't want it to end. "Since you've finished teaching for the day, what will you be doing for the rest of the day?"

"I suppose I could go into town, do a bit window shopping at Westfield," I say. "Or I could, I don't know… continue hanging out with you?"

Before Frank could answer, his mobile goes off. As does mine. I reach into the back of my jorts pocket and pull out my mobile. One unread message. I unlock my phone and read the text.

_Call me by the school gates – Z_

I knew exactly what that text meant.

"Who's that?" Frank asks me.

"Oh, it's my sister, Livi," I lie. "She's bored, so she me to go shopping with her. What about you? Who was that?"

"Mr. Flatley," he says. "Says that there's a drain blockage that needs unclogging in one of the toilets."

I wrinkle my nose, not wanting to imagine how bad the blockage is.

"So… I guess I'll see you later," he says.

"Yeah. You, too." I exit the staircase and make my way down the corridor.

I didn't mean to lie to Frank, but it's the only way I could make this excuse for what I was really doing. I haven't being entirely honestly about who I really am. The text message that I received on my phone meant I had to call "Z" about my next mission. Yes, that's right. I'm the Cat. I was the one who stopped that robber and humiliated him last night. I've been doing this gig since I left college. I spent the summer training to become the crime-fighter that I am now. While my mum and Aunt Hermione think that I was searching for jobs during the summer and my four years at university, I was actually busy fighting off the bad guys. The person who trained me is Zeke Williams. That's what the Z stands for in the text. He was a child prodigy who began college at the age of eleven (after completing the Year Six), started graduate studies at fourteen, and earned an MTech (Master of Technology) degree at sixteen. As well as training me, Zeke arranges missions for me, supplies me with various gadgets and arranges transportation.

I come out of the school and jog across the playground to the gates. I flip open the top of my heart-shaped wristwatch (that also acts as a communicator – one of the many gadgets that Zeke has invented) and Zeke appears on the screen.

"Ah, Jenny," he says. "How was your first day of teaching?"

"Zeke, you texted me to come outside the school to ask me that? I'm hanging up," I say, ready to flip the top down.

"Why? So you can go back and hang with your new friend, the caretaker?"

I start to feel hot around the cheeks. I forget that Zeke can hack into anything – including CCTV footage.

"Right. That's it!"

"No, no. Come on, Jen, I was only messing," he says. I reconsider my decision of hanging up on him. "By the way, just the read the paper. You certainly know how to humiliate men, don't you?"

"You don't think I went too far?"

"Pssh, please! Tying a robber up to a tree in nothing but his boxers with a cat face drawn on his torso? No way!"

"I'm sure you didn't text me to talk about last night, did you?"

"No. Take a look at this footage from the Bank of England Museum at five A.M. this morning."

CCTV footage of the Bank's collections display room appears on the screen of my wristwatch communicator. The room contains collections of banknotes and coins, books and documents, pictures, furniture, statues, silver and even real gold bars that are kept in the Rotunda area. The collection are either hanging on a wall, behind a glass case or behind a red velvet rope. Nothing out of the ordinary has happened until one and a half minutes into the footage when in the Banknote Gallery, a black blur snatches the collection of banknotes, leaving behind broken glass cases. What the hell?! Another CCTV footage that shows the Regal Coinage Room, the blurry robber comes back and steals the collection of coins, than the silver and finally, in the Rotunda area, the gold bars. Within minutes, the blurry robber had left the room half empty.

"What the hell was that, Zeke?!" I demand.

"That, Jen… is a robber with incredibly fast feet," says Zeke. "The robber stole a collection of issued Bank of England notes dating from the late 17th century from the Banknote Gallery, a selection of the coins issued by the Royal Mint from 1694 from the Regal Coinage Room, a small collection of silver and the bars of gold from the Rotunda area. The collection that this robber has stole is worth billions!"

"Don't tell me that my mission is to catch this guy? How the hell am I meant to do that?"

A Parcelforce van stops outside the school. A portly man with dark hair with moustache and blue eyes climbs out of the van with a parcel.

"Parcel for Jennifer Brownstone?" he asks. I put my hand up and nod. "Sign here, please."

I sign my name for the parcel.

"Cheers. Have a nice day." The man returns to the van and drives off.

"I don't remember ordering anything," I say, confused.

"Your gadgets are in that parcel," says Zeke. "They contain your jetpack backpack and a little doo-hicky I call the Slo-Mo Bomb. Hollow, cherry-sized spheres that'll slow down anything."

I open that parcel and pull out the cat head-shaped backpack and a small see through bag containing the Slo-Mo Bombs.

"Looks like I better get changed," I say. I press the blue button above the keypads and within a flash; I'm in my catsuit, complete with cat ears, mask and utility belt. I strap the backpack onto my back and pocket the bombs in the canisters of the belt.

"I'm gonna go and check out the museum to see if this speedster left any clues. I don't think the museum will be his only target," I say.

"I'll be checking out any buildings he might try and go for. Be careful, Jen," says Zeke, switching off.

And with that, I pressed the green button of my wristwatch communicator and the airplane wings of the backpack extend outwards. The backpack splits open, exposing the engine and igniting the flames. I launch into the air and I make my way to the Bank of England.

**(Frank's POV)**

After watching Jenny leave down the corridor, I make my way down the stairs to the storage cupboard, but not to collect the equipment needed to unblock the toilet. There is no blockage. I didn't mean to lie to Jenny, but I couldn't actually tell her what the message on my phone was about. And I couldn't tell her that I'm not actually a caretaker, that's just a cover. I'm really an MI9 agent. The text that I received was from the Head of MI9 saying that there has been a bizarre robbery at the Bank of England Museum and she wants my agents to look into it. My agents are pupils who attend this school – Rose Gupta, Carrie Stewart and Oscar Cole. They're part of an MI9 project called MI High: school pupils, who work as undercover spies, as other spies' covers have either been rumbled, revealed or the spy has retired.

Reaching the door of the storage cupboard, I slide open the light switch by the door of the door, revealing the thumbprint scanner. Placing my thumb on the pad, the small light above it flashes green giving me entry to the room. Closing the door behind me, I reach out for the mop handle by the door and pull it towards me. An alarm sounds for five seconds before the floor underneath me gives out. As I travel down the elevator at a speed of 100mph, my overalls are replaced by a blue suit and a black and white patterned shirt. My glasses are gone and my hair is let down. After my change, the elevator comes to a stop and the doors slide open. Stepping into MI9 HQ, 230 feet below the school, I ring-drop Rose, Carrie and Oscar. After a few rings, I hang up and make up way to the lab to get the gadgets needed for this mission.

After finding the perfect gadget, I sit by the three computer screens and start thinking about Jenny. She's certainly not like any girl I know. The girls during my time in university were a tad too serious. I mean they were pretty and very clever, but they didn't know the meaning of having fun – unless in their own world, their definition of having fun was studying all weekend on that paper on thermodynamics, heat transfer, energy conversion, and HVAC (heating, ventilation, and air conditioning). But Jenny isn't like that. She's cute, smart, sweet, straight-forward, but most of, she's fun. The perfect girl for me.

_SWOOSH!_

I hear the elevator doors open, breaking my thoughts. I turn on the swivel chair and see that Carrie, Oscar and Rose have arrived, their school uniforms replaced by their black spy uniforms. I stand up, grabbing the remote for the computer screens. Time for the briefing.

"Team, take a look at this," I say, switching the middle screen on with the remote.

CCTV footage of the Bank's collection display room appears on the screen, collections of banknotes and coins, books and documents, pictures, furniture, statues, silver and gold bars.

A minute into the footage, Carrie asks me, "What are we meant to be looking at, Frank?"

"Just keep watching, Carrie," I say, not taking my eyes off the screen.

Thirty seconds later, a strange-looking blur snatches the collection of banknotes.

"Whoa!" Oscar exclaimed.

"What was that?!" Rose asks.

Seconds later, the blur takes the collection of coins, silver and the gold bars. Within a matter of minutes, the room was nearly virtually empty.

"What just happened there?" Carrie asks, not believing in what she just saw.

"That, Carrie was an unbelievably speedy robber making off with valuable possessions worth billions," I say.

"But how did they manage to empty a room in minutes?" Oscar asks.

"My guess is this person possesses a pair of running shoes which allows them to run at an incredibly fast speed," says Rose.

"Precisely," I say. "Your mission is to find out who this person is and stop them."

"And how are we meant to do that, Frank?" Carrie asks. "This person is like Speedy Gonzales."

"I have just the thing for this." I grab two aerosol spray cans from the desk. "This is the Aero-Slo Spray Can – spray and anything or anyone will be slowed down by the particulates."

"Cool!" says Carrie, taking the cans.

"We better head to the museum to see if the robber left any clues," says Oscar.

"I'm gonna stay here and see if I can slow the footage to see who this robber is," Rose suggests.

Nodding in agreement, Oscar and Carrie leave HQ via elevator, while Rose sits down by the computers and starts tapping. Clearing my throat, I move to the lab where I begin to draft new ideas for another pet project. After a few minutes, I realised that all I've drawn on this paper is Jenny's name, hearts and Frank + Jenny in the heart drawings. As much as I wanted to distract myself in work, Jenny is the only thing I can think about. Beautiful, good-hearted and smart. I can't help but wonder what else could make this girl anymore special.


	4. Danni Dashiell

**(Jenny's POV)**

I land in an alleyway that is near the back entrance of the Bank of England Museum. Upon landing, the airplane wings and the engine conceal themselves back into the backpack. I quietly creep along the walls of the building where I peak my head out of the corner to see four officers of the MI9 SWAT team, looking a bit bored.

"This should be easy," I whisper to myself.

Stepping out of sight, I flip open the lid of my wristwatch communicator.

"Activate cloaking device," I say into the communicator.

And with that command, the communicator generates an invisible barrier that surrounds me. I step out of the alleyway and make my way to the back entrance where the SWAT officers are guarding. Wanting to know if this invisible barrier is working, I walk up to one of the officers and I start making silly faces at him. He doesn't take any notice. I go to the next officer and I stick my tongue out at him. Nothing. Smirking, I continue to make more silly faces, than sticking my middle fingers at them before finishing off by flicking the v's at them. Satisfied, I step through the entrance and make my way down the corridor. I find another door at the end of the corridor that leads down a short corridor to the Rotunda. The entrance is taped off. But I duck under the tape and I find myself in the Rotunda. Upon entry, I notice that no one is around. No MI9 agents have arrived yet, so I've only got a few minutes. I turn my attention to the pyramid-shaped glass case, now smashed to pieces, where the gold bars were. I deactivate the invisible barrier and make my way to the case, jumping over the iron guardrails.

I examine the broken case to see if the robber left any clues behind. Nothing. I walk around the case, where I notice there's a torn piece of terrycloth with a badge attached to it lying among the shards of glass on the floor. Crouching by the badge, being extra careful not to cut myself on the glass, I see that the badge has a profile of a white skull with one red eye. It's a SKUL badge. Of course they would be behind this. I use the projector slot on the face of the communicator to read the badge and terrycloth. Maybe Zeke can find out who this badge belongs to.

"Well, it looks like I'm about done here," I say, standing up.

"My thoughts exactly."

A freeze on the spot but not in fear, but surprised. I recognise this voice. He managed to sneak up on me. Very subtle.

"Turn around. Hands behind your head."

I place my hands on the back of my head and I slowly turn around to face…

"Chief Agent Stark," I say. "Well, isn't this a nice surprise?"

"So… we meet again, Cat." Stark smirks. He's standing behind the guardrails, with two MI9 SWAT officers behind him blocking the entrance to the next room. "And this time, I've caught you in the act."

"Actually, you caught me scanning items. Not stealing valuable artefacts and possessions like our 'flash' robber did."

"I mean… after all these years of seeing you flee the scene, making fools out of the police and MI9, and making those stupid jokey comments and drawings that you do, I've finally caught up with you. And I'm gonna take great pleasure in cuffing you up and throwing you in jail, where you belong."

"Wow. Well, Stark, I always thought that MI9 would never catch up to me, but I guess I was proven wrong. All I can say is congratulations, Stark. You've finally caught me."

Stark smirks triumphantly. "Any last words before I cuff you?"

"Only this. Think fast!" I throw two Slo-Mo Bombs that I had hidden in my hair at the pillars that the two SWAT officers were standing by. A forceful jet of white smoke surrounds the officers. As they s-l-o-w-l-y reach for their guns, Stark turns his attentions to me. But before he can react, I headbutt him on the nose.

"Argh, my nose!" Stark cries, staggering back and holding his nostrils to stop the blood. "You broke my nose!"

I hear heavy footsteps coming from the fire exit behind me. I turn to see that the four SWAT officers that were guarding the back entrance blocking the entrance that I came through, their guns pointing at me.

"Don't just stand there, shoot her!" Stark barks, still holding his nose.

I quickly open the communicator. "Activate cloaking device."

My body becomes invisible before they have the chance to fire at me. The officers, bewildered, begin to fan out and search the room. Quietly as I can be, I jump over the guardrails and make my way to the fire exit. But before I leave these douchebags in the lurch, I set a tripwire across the door frame. I reach for the canister on my utility belt and scatter several Slo-Mo Bombs on the floor of the small corridor. Deactivating the cloaking device, I stand by the other side of the corridor and whistle at the officers.

"Yoo-hoo! Boys!" I call.

The four officers see me. I blow a kiss and wink at them. The first two officers come through the door, but trip on the tripwire, knocking them out. The other two officers jump over the knocked out officers, but unknowingly step on the Slo-Mo Bombs, causing them to slow down.

"Well, I've enjoyed this little game we had going on, but I've got things to do, criminals to catch. Later, losers!" I say, sticking my middle fingers up at them and making my exit.

Upon exiting, I activate my jetpack backpack and take off, leaving behind the Bank of England Museum. After a few minutes of flying, I land on the roof of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, where I had to catch my breath. My heart still banging away like crazy from all the excitement. As I sit on the concrete roof, leaning against the stone wall, I can't help but laugh. Laughing at those SWAT officers that are in slow motion and laughing even louder at Stark whining, crying and blowing his top off that a) he has a broken nose from the headbutt and b) that I got away again. As much as my forehead hurts, it's worth headbutting Stark. He's a smug little shit anyway.

I hear a beep on my communicator and see that Zeke is calling me. I answer.

"Hey, Zeke," I say, calming down from the laughing.

"Hi, Jen," he says. "What happened to your forehead? It's all blue and purple."

"Oh, Stark was being smug, so I headbutted him." I sigh. "Anyhoo, did you get anything from the terrycloth?"

"Yeah. The terrycloth came from a wrist sweatband belonging to this person."

A profile with photo shows up on the screen. The photo is a woman in her mid-thirties with short brown hair and green eyes. I know exactly who that woman is.

"Oh, my God! That's Danni Dashiell," I say.

"Who?" Zeke asks.

"Danni 'The Dash' Dashiell was a former Olympian track sprinter and one of the fastest Europeans in the history of athletics. At least, that what we all thought she was. Ten years ago, she was given a life ban for taking banned substances. She was stripped of her medals and her prizes were taken away. She disappeared out of the limelight and no one has seen or heard from her since. Until now."

"Working for SKUL, stealing money, precious artefacts and diamonds…"

"Hang on. Diamonds?"

"Yeah. About eight minutes ago, jewellery stores in the West End were emptied out by Dashiell."

"Crap. If it wasn't for Stark, I could've stopped her."

"How? You're in Bank and she's in the West End. There's no way you could have flown there in time to stop her."

"We need to find out what her next target will be. It has to be something where it's more valuable than diamonds and gold bars. Something that attracts everyone. Something like…"

"The Crown Jewels?"

"Of course. The Tower of London. I'm on it!"

"Be careful, Jen. Remember, she's got the speed."

"Yeah? Well, I've got the reflexes."

I hang up and close the communicator. Standing up, I take off once again and make my way to the Tower of London.

**(Frank's POV)**

As I continue to daydream about Jenny, I hear Rose sigh in frustration. Leaving the lab, I go to Rose, who is still sitting by the computers.

"I've been trying to slow the footage to see the robber's face for the last half hour, but they're just too fast," she says.

"I'm sure Carrie and Oscar will find something at the museum that'll tell us who this person is," I say, sitting next to Rose. "Why don't you take a break, Rose? You've been sitting in front of the screen for far too long and it can't be good for your eyes."

"OK." Rose stands up and stretches, then goes to the lab to get herself a snack from the mini fridge. "Frank?"

"Hm?"

"What's this?"

I turn on my swivel chair to see Rose holding the sheet of paper that contains the scribbles of me and Jenny. My eyes widen.

"I – gah – w – um –" I stammer. I feel my face flooding scarlet.

"Isn't Jenny Mrs King's niece?" she asks.

"N-no, she's not! She's… she's, um…" I sigh in defeat. "OK. Yes, Jenny is Mrs King's niece."

"And you like her?"

"It's just a small crush."

"Frank, you've drawn a doodle of you and her kissing." She points to the bottom right corner of the paper.

I move my chair to Rose and snatch the paper from her hands, crumbling it up. "Yeah, well, it's not like I'll be getting together with her anytime soon. I don't think Mrs King will appreciate her niece going out with the school caretaker."

"That's just it, Frank. Mrs King is Jenny's aunt, not her mum. Besides, I'm sure Jenny has a soft spot for you as well."

I smile in assurance. Rose is right. Jenny may have a soft spot for me. She wanted to spend the rest of the day with me before I was called away to this. I uncrumble the paper and look at the doodle of me and Jenny kissing. I go into a private dream where it's just me and Jenny walking hand in hand at the beach. I pull her close and kiss those soft, plump lips…

I must be mad. I've only just met her and already I'm thinking about what it'll like to kiss her. Her neck, her ears, her mouth…

I jump when I hear Oscar's voice booms on the radio. "Guys, something weird has happened at the museum."

I move my chair to the computers and grab the microphone. "What do mean 'weird'?"

"Carrie and I are in the Rotunda area of the museum and it seems the SWAT officers are being a bit slow."

"How slow?"

"Slow as in if I would spray the Aero-Slo at them slow. It looks like someone has been here before us."

"The Cat," says Rose. "She's investigating this case, too."

I hear someone crying in the background. "Oscar, who is that?"

"Chief Agent Stark," I hear Carrie say on the radio. "As well as using a gadget to slow down the SWAT officers, the Cat headbutted Stark and broke his nose. There's blood everywhere. It's like something from a horror movie."

"Stark and the SWAT officers must have apprehended her, but she headbutted Stark and slowed the officers down," says Rose.

"She was looking for clues on who robbed the museum. And now she knows," I say.

"And now so do we," says Oscar. "I've used the Spy-Pod to scan a piece of terrycloth that probably came from a sweatband. The robber's name is Danni Dashiell."

"I've heard of her," says Carrie. "She was former Olympic track sprinter who was stripped of her medals because she was tested positive for taking banned substances. No one has seen or heard from her."

"Now she works for SKUL I found their badge that came with the terrycloth."

"How did a former Olympic athlete come across SKUL? Stealing priceless collections of banknotes, coins and gold bars?"

"Now she's stolen diamonds." I turn to the screen that Rose was looking at. It was a jewellery shop with all the staff looking completely baffled. "All the diamonds from every jewellery store in the West End have been cleared out by Dashiell."

"We need to figure out where Dashiell will be going next," says Oscar.

"It'll have to be somewhere challenging," says Carrie. "And a place that everyone knows."

"The Tower of London," Rose and I say in unison.

"She'll be after the Crown Jewels," says Rose.

"We better get to the Tower, then," says Oscar, switching off.

"I'm gonna join them," says Rose.

"I'll try and find out where Dashiell could have hidden the valuables. Some of the jewels might have a tracking device on them," I suggest.

Nodding her head, Rose runs for the elevator and leaves HQ, while I start tapping away on the computer. As I type, I can't help but wonder what Jenny is up to now.


	5. Speed vs Reflexes

**(Jenny's POV)**

It takes me seven minutes to get to the Tower of London from St. Barts Hospital. Arriving over the Tower, I see that I've arrived just in time.

_SMASH!_

I hear a window smash and people screaming below. Damn! Dashiell's got the Crown Jewels. I see her (if you pardon the pun) dashing her way across to the courtyard, knocking down tourists and Beefeaters. She stops at the Tower Wharf, where there's a speedboat waiting for her. She jumps into the speedboat and makes her getaway.

"Activate cloaking device," I say into the communicator.

My body becomes invisible and I follow Dashiell, hoping that she'll lead me to where she has hidden the diamonds, jewellery and the others.

xxoOoxx

Half an hour later, I see Dashiell pull up the speedboat to a pier in West Silverton in the East End of London, near a derelict warehouse called the Millennium Mills. Landing I see Dashiell climb out of the speedboat along with the bag containing the Crown Jewels and heading into the warehouse. I follow not that far behind her, messaging Zeke that I've located the stolen valuables and that he should kindly pass this information to MI9. Normally, I wouldn't get MI9 helping me as it's often the other way round, but it would be difficult for me to return the valuables back to where they belong whilst carrying Dashiell to MI9 headquarters.

As I enter the decaying industrial building, the stench of urine, rats, bird crap and possibly a rotting corpse burn my nostrils and fill my lungs up like whoa. I cover my nose and continue to follow Dashiell, trying hard not to throw up.

I follow Dashiell up to the first floor where I see in the middle of the room a large brown table that had the priceless collection from the Bank of England Museum and the diamonds from the West End jewellery stores. I hide behind a pillar not far from the table, deactivating the cloaking device. Poking my head out, I see Dashiell opening the bag and bringing out the Crown Jewels and placing them on the table. She brings out her phone and dials.

"Grandmaster? It's Dashiell," she says. "I have the Crown Jewels and the others right here. Thank you, sir. OK, see you in twenty."

Hanging up her phone, I step out from the pillar. "The Grandmaster is not gonna get his grubby hands on those valuables."

Dashiell looks up. "It's you. You're the Cat."

"That's my name, don't wear it out."

"The Grandmaster has told me about you. You're the vigilante who mocks the police and MI9."

"I like to see myself as a masked individual who lends a helping hand to the police and MI9. Oh, and speaking of the Grandmaster, how did a dressing gown wearing, bunny handling dick like him come across a disgraced former Olympian like you?"

"If you must know, _I_ approached him. After my fans turned on me and the media chewed me up and spat me out like slate-flavoured bubblegum, I went into hiding. About six months later, I saw an ad in the paper saying that they were looking for individuals who thought that the world hated them (and they do) to work for mysterious masked villain. So I answered the ad and went along to SKUL headquarters where I've been working as an underling before becoming SKUL's expert thief."

"So all these years you were working for SKUL amassing them a fortune in stolen items?"

"Precisely. And it's all thanks to these running shoes that the boys in the SKUL lab made for made by request of the Grandmaster."

I look at her shoes. They're black with red laces and matching red spikes on the outsole, with SKUL's logo on the sides.

"They look awesome," I admit.

"Yes, they are," says Dashiell. "And now, I'm gonna use these to kick your arse as a consolation prize for the Grandmaster. ACCELERATION MODE!"

Dashiell charges towards me, but my cat-like instincts come to life as I dodge out of the way. Skidding to a halt, Dashiell charges towards me again but this time I grab her arm and throw her across the room and into the wall. Dashiell's impact with the wall causes some debris from the ceiling to fall. Dashiell stands up and shakes her head to get rid of the debris.

"Nnngh, why you little…!" she growls as she charges towards me once again, her hand balled into a fist, ready to punch me. I dodge her fist but she tries again and I dodge it again. "Uuuugh! Arrgh!" She launches a flurry punches at me, the kind that you'll see in the Street Fighter games, but I keep dodging each and every one. That is until she clips my chin, causing me to fall backwards. "Yes! I landed a blow! How's that, Miss Pussy Cat!?"

But Dashiell's little victory is short-lived as I grab her shoulders, moving close to her, I put my shin on her belly and as I continue to fall back, I toss her over my head and across the room.

"NKYAAAH!" I hear her scream as she crashes on the floor, causing more debris to fall.

"Uhh…" I groan. Standing up, I dust myself off and make my way to Dashiell who was staggering to the table with the stolen valuables. "Look, Dashiell. How about you stop this foolishness and turn yourself in? I'm sure MI9 will go easy on you."

Dashiell sniffles. Sounds like she's crying. "OK… I'll turn myself in."

I sigh in relief. "Attagirl."

"As soon as I kill you!" Dashiell comes storming towards me with a sword from the Crown Jewels in her hand. Quick as a flash, I reach for the cylinder on my utility belt and pour out the Slo-Mo Bombs all over the floor, causing Dashiell to step on them.

As I watch Dashiell charge s-l-o-w-l-y for me, I take this opportunity to remove her speedy and totally awesome SKUL shoes. Placing them on the table I call Zeke and tell him that I've got Dashiell and the stolen fortunes are here and accounted for. Hanging up, I hear the sirens echoing outside. MI9 has arrived.

Picking up the remaining Slo-Mo Bombs that Dashiell didn't step on, I make my way to an open window. Activating my jetpack backpack, I take one last look at Dashiell who slowly turns her head to me and she is pissed. But I don't care. Flashing a peace sign and sticking my tongue at her, I jump out of the window and take off, flying back to St. Hope's. But not before I put some make-up on my forehead to cover this bruise that I've got and do some last minute clothes shopping. And it has to be a crap-load of shopping as I told Frank that Livi is taking me shopping for the afternoon. Speaking of Frank, I wonder what he's doing.

**(Frank's POV)**

"Team, I've just received anonymous message from an unknown source that Danni Dashiell is hiding out in a disused warehouse in West Silvertown, East London," I tell Oscar, Rose and Carrie on my phone. "She may also have the stolen fortunes with her. Get yourselves down there. I'll see you there."

Hanging up, I leave HQ and sneak out of St Hope's, hoping I don't bump into Mr. Flatley or worse, Mrs King. Coming out of the school, I see a MI9 van waiting for me. I jog across the playground and climb in the back of the van where we set off for West Silvertown.

xxoOoxx

Nearly an hour later, we finally arrive in West Silvertown. Coming out of the van with a SWAT team, I spot Oscar, Rose and Carrie by the entrance of a derelict mill. I make my way over to them.

"Why are you guys out here?" I ask them.

"Chief Agent Stark said that we had to wait for him," says Rose, crossing her arms over her chest.

"And that was fifteen minutes ago!" says Carrie.

"Look, here he is now," says Oscar.

I look over my shoulder and see Chief Agent Stark coming towards us. He has a massive plaster on the bridge of his nose and two pieces of tissue paper up each nostril. I place my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing out loud.

"You think this is funny, London?" Stark asks me as he approaches me.

"Oh no, I wasn't laughing at you, sir," I say, stifling a laugh. "I was just, erm… thinking about a joke someone told me."

"Whatever. Let's just get this over and done with."

Stark enters the building. Oscar, Rose, Carrie and myself follow behind, holding our noses. Not only because the building smelt disgusting and decaying but also to stifle our laughs. I can hear Stark sighing in frustration. We reach the first floor of the warehouse where we see Dashiell moving in slow motion.

"Whoa," says Rose.

"No guessing on who came and stopped Dashiell," says Carrie, frowning.

"That would explain the anonymous message," I say.

"Arrgh!" Stark growls. "I hate that stupid Cat! Why can't she leave us alone? We were doing fine before she came along!"

"Hey, look," says Oscar. "The stolen fortune."

We walk over to a large brown table and we see the Crown Jewels, the diamonds and the Bank of England Museum collections. Also on the table are Dashiell's running shoes.

"It seems like everything is here," says Rose. "Including Dashiell's running shoes that she used to steal the fortunes."

"Yeah," Carrie says sadly.

"What's wrong, Carrie?" I ask.

"I just can't help but think that this mission was a bit of a washout," she says. "I mean, _we_ were supposed to catch Dashiell but the Cat beats us to the punch."

"Carrie's right," says Oscar. "We never even got to use the Aero-Slo Spray Can."

"Which is why we need to apprehend the Cat for undertaking the law into her own hands," says Stark. "Now don't just stand there gossiping like old ladies… get these valuables back to their rightful places! And can someone please put slowcoach Dashiell in cuffs?"

After we arrest Dashiell, we spend the next two hours returning the Crown Jewels to the Tower of London, the artefacts and collections to the Bank of England Museum and the diamonds to all the jewellery stores in the West End.

xxoOoxx

We return back to St Hope's where Oscar, Rose and Carrie go back to their classes and I return to mopping the corridor. While I'm mopping, I hear the sound of a piano playing. Stopping what I was doing, I follow the sound. It's coming from the assembly hall. Looking through the window of the door to the assembly hall, I see that it's Jenny playing the piano. Quietly as I can be, I gently push open the door and I creep in, gently closing the door behind me. I lean against the wall, my arms crossed and I continue to listen to Jenny playing the piano. She looks amazing, she plays amazing too and boy, can she shop. She has several bags on shopping lying beside her. She looks like she was in her own little world as she plays. Then Jenny takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and starts to sing.

"Oh, thinkin' about all our younger years  
There was only you and me  
We were young and wild and free  
Now nothing can take you away from me  
We've been down that road before  
But that's over now  
You keep me comin' back for more

"And baby, you're all that I want  
When you're lyin' here in my arms  
I'm findin' it hard to believe  
We're in heaven  
And love is all that I need  
And I found it there in your heart  
It isn't too hard to see  
We're in heaven

"Oh, once in your life you find someone  
Who will turn your world around  
Bring you up when you're feelin' down  
Now nothin' can change what you mean to me  
Oh there's lots that I could say  
But just hold me now  
'Cause our love will light the way

"And baby, you're all that I want  
When you're lyin' here in my arms  
I'm findin' it hard to believe  
We're in heaven  
And love is all that I need  
And I found it there in your heart  
It isn't too hard to see  
We're in heaven

"I've been waitin' for so long  
For somethin' to arrive  
For love to come along  
Now our dreams are comin' true  
Through the good times and the bad  
I'll be standin' there by you, oh!

"And baby you're all that I want  
When you're lyin' here in my arms  
I'm findin' it hard to believe  
We're in heaven  
And love is all that I need  
And I found it there in your heart  
It isn't too hard to see  
We're in heaven, heaven  
Whoa, oh, oh!

"You're all that I want  
You're all that I need

"We're in heaven  
We're in heaven  
We're in heaven"

Wow. This girl can really sing. In a voice that I hardly recognized as being her own. It was like when I heard her this morning when she had her music lesson. Her voice mesmerize me like a spell. Clear. True. Pitch perfect. No effort at all. Just like magic.

When she finishes, there's a silence. Jenny opens her eyes and sees me.

"Jesus!" she cries, putting her hand on her chest. "You scared the hell out of me!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to," I say, walking to the stage. "It's just… you've got an amazing voice and I was fascinated by it."

Jenny blushes. "Thanks."

"What's the song called?"

"Heaven. Written and sung by Bryan Adams."

As I reach the stage, Jenny pulls out a bottle from one of her shopping bags and sprays it over the stage and then over me. I look at her in confuseion as she places the bottle back into the bag.

"Erm… why did you do that?"

Jenny sits on the stage, swinging her legs over the stage. "You're a forgetful one, aren't you? You told me that there was a toilet drain that needed unblocking."

I blink a few times, finally remembering what I told her. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, I did."

"You're a bit of a scatterbrain, aren't you?"

"I guess you could say that I am." I climb on the stage and sit beside Jenny, trying like mad to think of something to say or talk about.

I glance nervously at Jenny. She catches me looking. She smiles. I clear my throat and look away, trying not to blush.

"You're not often this shy and quiet, are you?" she asks.

I shake my head. "Sorry. I'm just trying to think of something intelligent to say."

"We could always start with the basics. How about you tell me about yourself and I'll do the same."

We spend the next two hours getting to know one another. Even after the bell signalling the end of school, we continue to talk. I listen with interest as Jenny talks about her love for art and how she wants to become a comic book artist. I listen as she tells me everything about herself. I take in every information about her like a sponge. She's just so amazing. From her talents to her ambitions. Then I tell her about me. I wasn't gonna tell Jenny that I'm an MI9 agent working undercover as a caretaker, so I just make up a story about me dropping out of school when I was fifteen and worked in a number of odd jobs before becoming a caretaker for St Hope's. She's fascinated by the story I tell her, though in truth, I actually left school with nine A-Levels – all As. Then attended Oxford University where I studied for my Bachelor of Science degree that I got a First in and after pursued a postgraduate degree in Masters of Science where I got a First in that as well.

Yawning, Jenny takes a look at her watch. "Wow! Look at the time. It's just after five. Aunt 'Mione should be finished right about now. I should probably get going."

She gets up on the stage to collect her shopping, while I slip off the stage. I help collect the shopping bags from her and lay them on the floor next to me.

"Here, let me help you down," I say, holding out my hands which she takes.

I feel the soft texture of her touch. I take a step back as Jenny jumps off the stage.

"There we go!" she says as she lands. We were still holding hands. But I didn't want to let go. Her hands are gentle and warm, just like her. This would be one of those romantic scenarios where we would kiss and declare our love for each other. Instead she says, "Frank, we're still holding hands."

"Oh! Sorry," I say, letting go, feeling like a complete numpty.

"Like I said, you're a bit of a scatterbrain. I like it, though. It's cute."

My face is certainly blushing scarlet right now. Jenny must take me for a right idiot. She sees this and giggles at me as she picks up her shopping bags. I manage to laugh too, though I still feel a bit foolish.

"Well… looks like I'll be seeing you tomorrow then," says Jenny. "Bye, Frank."

"Bye, Jenny," I say, still feeling hot.

I watch her walk across the hall to the door, looking over her shoulder at me. I smile and give her a small wave. She smiles back and looks back at the door, where she pushes it and leaves, her footsteps echoing down the corridor.

I place my hand on my chest and _bang bang bang_ my heart beats. Even though I just made a right idiot of myself, Jenny doesn't seem to mind. She thinks that I'm a scatterbrain – a cute one to top it off. I sigh dreamily at her comment and leave the assembly hall.

**(Jenny's POV)**

As I leave the hall, I see Aunt Hermione down the corridor. She sees me. I wave as I scurry over to her.

"Hey, Aunt 'Mione," I say, catching up to her.

"Where were you? I've been waiting for you for ten minutes!" she says.

"Sorry, I was in the assembly hall with Frank."

"Oh. Is that so?"

"You don't have to worry. Frank and I were just talking."

"Hm. So how did you find today?"

Apart from stopping a SKUL agent from stealing all the riches in London? Just dandy. "Good. It was good."

"And I see you've already met some interesting people."

"If you mean Frank, then he and I are just friends, Aunt H."

"Well, just as long as you two are friends and nothing else."

I roll my eyes and we make our way out of the school. As we head for the car, I can't help but think about that brief semi-romantic moment that Frank and I had when we were holding hands. His hands were soft and gentle, like him. But as much as I wanted to continue to hold hands with Frank, I can't get together with him. It's hard enough that I have to balance work life with my crime-fighting life, but there's no way I can fit a love life in there, too. Though I have to admit, Frank does look adorable when he blushes. I giggle to myself as I enter the car and put on my seatbelt.

"What are you laughing about?" Aunt Hermione asks me, entering the car and putting on her seatbelt.

"Oh, it's nothing," I say. "It was one of those random laughs when you remember something."

Aunt Hermione shrugs it off and starts the car. As she pulls out of the school and drives us home, I look out of the window and continue to think about how cute Frank looks when he blushes.


	6. In the Doggy House

**(Jenny's POV)**

It's been six weeks since I joined St Hope's, working part-time as a teacher. I've gotten to know my way around the school as well as calling everybody in Year Ten by their real names. Though, Scoop insists that I continue to call him by his nickname. I've also become real good friends with Frank. I enjoy hanging out with him. I sometimes even help him out with his work and sometimes lunch with him, where we talk about anything and everything, make each other laugh and enjoy the company of one another. It's probably our way of us having a good time. But now, the whole school thinks that Frank and I are dating. We're not. Don't get me wrong, I like Frank. I liked him since day one, but I can't get together with him. Ever since I became the masked crime-fighter that is the Cat four years ago, dating has been off the table. And besides, even if I wasn't the Cat, I'm pretty sure Aunt Hermione is doing everything in her power to stop me and Frank from getting together. If she was head teacher of St Hope's, she would fire Frank right there and then.

Speaking of St Hope's, I really should be paying attention to the film I put on for the class to watch. It's Baz Luhrmann's _Romeo + Juliet_. The class is studying Shakespeare's tragic play this year. But since I can't be arsed to listen to the dullness that is the random voice of a pupil reading out loud to the book, I decided that it'll be better (and much quicker) to watch the film instead. And as it's a double English lesson, it'll be easier to watch the film in one go.

As I watch the final scene where Juliet, played by Claire Danes, shoots herself in the head, a police sergeant with three policemen burst through the door.

"Hey! What the hell? What's going on here?!" I ask, pissed.

"Sorry for the intrusion, miss, but we've come for Timothy Hinklebottom, Homer Apathy and John James McIntyre," says the sergeant.

"Why? What did they do?"

"Vandalism," the sergeant tells me. "Last night at the HSBC bank in Shepherd's Bush Green."

"No way, man!" says Scoop. "We didn't vandalise no bank!"

"We have CCTV footage of you and your friends completely trashing the bank," the sergeant tells Scoop. "Officers."

The three policemen march up to Scoop and his friends, Homie and JJ, bringing them to their feet and cuffing them.

"No fucking way!" I exclaim, standing up.

"Er, what's going on here?"

I turn to the door. It's Aunt Hermione with Mr. Flatley.

"Aunt H, Mr. F, the police are arresting Scoop, Homie and JJ!" I tell them.

"Timothy Hinklebottom, Homer Apathy and John James McIntyre, I'm arresting you for vandalism of a public building. You have the right to remain silent, but anything you do say will be taken down and may be used in evidence," says the sergeant. "Take 'em away."

The three policemen take Scoop, Homie and JJ out of the classroom, with Aunt Hermione, Mr. Flatley, me and the whole class following behind. Aunt Hermione and Mr. Flatley try to persuade the police that they are making a terrible mistake, but the police are having none of it.

As the police bring the boys out of the school and to their police cars by the gates, I step in front of the gate, blocking their path. "You can't do this! Scoop, Homie and JJ are good kids! They'll never do something like this!"

"Miss, if you don't move out of the way, I will have to arrest you," says the sergeant.

"Jen, please… let the police do their jobs," says Aunt Hermione, taking hold of my arm.

"But…" Aunt Hermione pulls me out the sergeant's way and he and the policemen take Scoop, Homie and JJ to their police cars, then they drive away.

I pull away from Aunt Hermione. "Why did you do that?! Scoop, Homie and JJ are innocent!"

Before Aunt Hermione can say anything, I shake my head at her and run out of the gates. She calls after me but I'm not listening. I run up the road to Royal Crescent Park. I take out my phone and call Zeke.

"Zeke, I need your help!" I exclaim. "Three of my students have been arrested…"

"I know, Jen. I saw it on CCTV," says Zeke. "And they're not the only ones."

"What do you mean?"

"School kids across London have been arrested for turning every HSBC in the city upside down. I'm sending you CCTV footage of one of the banks being trashed to your communicator."

I open my wristwatch communicator and CCTV footage of a HSBC bank appears on the screen. The place is getting a licking by kids between the ages of twelve to sixteen. They were smashing the windows of the bank and throwing eggs at the cashier windows, writing graffiti on the posters and walls, tearing up the leaflets and knocking down the chairs and tables and flinging toilet paper all over the room.

"Oh, my God," I say.

"The same has happened to all the other HSBC banks," says Zeke. "Hmm. I'm looking at the footage from all the banks and it seems that they were all trashed at exactly the same time – ten past eleven."

"Zeke, did all these banks being trashed have a kid wearing headphones?" I ask.

There's a tiny pause. "Yes. Yes, they are. You don't think…?"

"Someone is hypnotising these kids into ripping apart HSBC banks across the city. I need to see Scoop and the others to find out who they were listening to before and during the attacks."

"Are you crazy?! Those kids are being held in a _police_ station. Or have you forgotten who you have been pissing off for four years?"

"Oh, ye of little faith, Ezekiel." I press the blue button on my communicator and I change into a black suit with a crisp, white shirt. My hair is slick back into a ponytail and I have on black sunglasses. I look like Will Smith in Men in Black, except I have boobs. "Agent Brown – MI9."

"Nice," says Zeke.

"Right, I'm gonna head over to the police station and interview Scoop."

"Two things, Jen. One, be careful and two… never, _ever_ call me by my full name."

"Whatever. Laters." I hang up and leave the park. I hail a taxi and tell the driver to take me to Shepherd's Bush Police Station.

**(Frank's POV)**

I see the CCTV footage of Scoop and his friend being taken away by the police from HQ. I turn off the middle computer screen and stand up, wondering who could try and set up Scoop, his friends and the other kids across the city.

_SWOOSH!_

The elevator doors open and Rose, Carrie and Oscar enter HQ, and they are not looking pleased.

"Frank, what's going on here?" Carrie asks. "Scoop, Homie and JJ have being arrested for vandalism."

"As dumb as Scoop and his friends are, they're not that stupid in pulling a stunt like this," says Oscar.

"Scoop and his friends weren't the only ones arrested for vandalism," I say.

"What do you mean, Frank?" Rose asks.

"Kids all over London have been arrested for vandalism of HSBC." I turn all three computer screens. "These are CCTV footage of three different HSBC banks over London being vandalised."

"But why are they only attacking HSBC?" Oscar asks.

"And why are they all wearing headphones?" Carrie asks.

"They look like they're being hypnotised," says Rose. "Question is who is hypnotising Scoop and the others and why does this want to destroy HSBC?"

"That's what you need to find out," I say. "MI9 has brought in one of the kids involved in the riot to St Hope's. Your job is to interview him about what he was doing before the riot. You'll be interviewing him in the school's assembly hall."

"And what will you be doing, Frank?" Carrie asks.

My mobile rings. I pull out my phone and see Mrs King's name flash on the screen. "I will be answering Mrs King's beck and call. You three go on ahead, I'll catch up."

Oscar, Rose and Carrie leave HQ. Sighing in exasperation, I answer my phone.

"Mrs K, what can I do for you?" I ask in my cheeriest of tones.

"Hi, Frank…" she says. "I was wondering if you could… give Jenny a call."

"Jenny?!" My heart skips a beat. "W-why?"

"Let's just say that I'm not her favourite person to talk to at the moment. She's mad at me for pulling her away as she was blocking the policemen's path and for letting them take Timothy, Homer and John James away. I've tried calling her but it keeps going to voicemail and I was thinking that since she likes… spending time with you, she might answer your call."

"Right. Well… I'll get on it right away, Mrs K."

"Thank you."

Hanging up, I call Jenny's number. After a few rings, it went straight to voicemail.

'_Hi, there! This is the J-E-double N-Y Brownstone saying I can't answer your call right now. But fret not, friend/family member, just leave your message after the beep and I'll get back to you ASAP. Kiss kiss.'_

_BEEP!_

"Oh, hi, Jenny. It's Frank," I say. "Listen, er, your Aunt Hermione… Mrs King, has just, er, called me to call you to see, or hear that you're OK. She said that you had a right pop at her when she pulled you away as you were blocking the policemen's path and for letting them take Scoop, Homie and JJ away. She's a bit worried about you so, er, just call her… or me. You can call me back just to say that you're OK. OK? Bye."

I hang up and lightly bang my phone against my forehead. "Stupid, stupid, stupid. Sound like an idiot, why don't you?"

Sighing in annoyance, I leave HQ, but hoping that Jenny is OK.


	7. The Knight in Shining Leather

**(Jenny's POV)**

Getting out of the taxi, I pay the driver and, straightening my black blazer, I head into the police station. I walk up to the front desk, where there's a young dark-skinned woman with long, plaited black hair and big brown eyes who is working on the computer. I clear my throat to get her attention.

"Can I help you?" she asks, looking up from the computer.

"Yes. I was wondering if I can speak to whoever is in charge with the HSBC vandalism case," I say.

"And who might you be?"

I whip out my (fake) ID badge. "Agent Penny Brown of MI9."

I wait with bated breath as the woman checks out the badge. Nodding her head in affirmation, she picks up the phone to call her supervisor.

"Sergeant Bailey? Constable Allard here," she says. "I've got an Agent Penny Brown who works for MI9 wanting to speak to you about the HSBC vandalism case. OK." She hangs up. "Sergeant Bailey is on his way."

"Thank you," I say.

I sit on the bench by a door that leads down a corridor to the cells that Scoop, Homie and JJ are probably in. I look at the various flyers and leaflets on the noticeboard opposite from where I'm sitting: murder cases from a year or so ago, missing person flyers, volunteer leaflets and advice leaflets about various crimes and victim support.

"Agent Brown?" I stand up and see Sergeant Bailey standing by the doorway. The same Sergeant Bailey who had Scoop, Homie and JJ arrested. He holds out his hand. "Sergeant Elliot Bailey. A pleasure."

I take his hand and shake it. "Likewise."

"I take it you and your people are looking into this vandalism case?"

"Precisely. There are MI9 agents across the city interviewing the people who were involved in the attacks. I'm here to interview Timothy Hinklebottom, Homer Apathy and John James McIntyre about their involvement."

"And what makes you think that they will tell you anything, Agent Brown?"

"Oh, they'll be telling me something, Sergeant Bailey." I lay my briefcase on the bench and open it. I pull out a syringe. "This is Truth Serum 2X4B-523P. I inject them with this and the truth will be spewing out of their mouths like Regan MacNeil from The Exorcist. Albeit, I will only use this if they get fresh with me. So… what do you say?"

Bailey looks at the syringe, then at me. Sighing, he motions me to follow him. I place the syringe back into the briefcase and close it and I follow Bailey. He leads me to one of the cells at the end of a long corridor.

Opening the peephole of the cell door, he looks inside. "Mr. Hinklebottom, you have a visitor." He closes the peephole door and turns to me. "You have five minutes."

I nod as he unlocks the door and opens it. I enter into the cell and the door shuts behind me. I look at the cell. It's small, grey and depressing. There's a small square window opposite the door I'm standing at with black rough bars. I look to the right side of the cell and see a stainless steel toilet in the corner by the window with its matching stainless steel basin in the corner by the door. I look to the left side of the cell and there's a white table top anchored in the wall with a plastic grey chair sitting in the corner and in the corner opposite the anchored table top was Scoop. He's sitting cross-legged on a black stainless steel bed that had an unseeingly lumpy grey mattress with a grey woolly blanket and a single white pillow. Despite Scoop being in this cell for about an hour, he looks rough and possibly a bit scared.

"Hello, Mr. Hinklebottom," I say, walking up to him.

"Who are you?" he asks.

"A friend." I take the chair from the corner and I sit opposite of Scoop.

"Look, I've already told the police and now I is gonna tell you: I didn't vandalise nothing!"

"Then at least tell me what you and your friends were up to last night before this vandalism came to life."

Scoop crosses his arms and looks away.

"Timothy… you and your friends are looking at a hefty fine and an ASBO for a crime you're telling me that you didn't do, despite the fact that there are CCTV footage of you three doing so. So unless you tell me what happened last night, I'm gonna walk straight out of this cell and have Sergeant Bailey write up the ASBO. So… what's it to be?"

After about ten seconds, Scoop gives in with a sigh. He uncrosses his arms and turns his head to me.

"Fine, I'll tell you," he says. "Me, Homie and JJ were at my house last night… doing homework, yeah?"

I nod my head. "OK. Is that all you were doing?"

"Yeah. That and listening to music."

"Music?"

"Yeah. We all had our headphones on as we did our homework."

I remember in the CCTV footage of Scoop and the others having headphones on as they attacked the bank. "Who or what were you listening to?"

"We was all listening to a radio station called Swaggerbeatz FM," Scoop answers.

"I've never heard of that station."

"It's a pirate radio station. It's hosted by DJ Mega J."

"And that's what all you three of you were doing?"

"Yeah, until quarter to eleven. I must have blacked out of somethink coz when I woke up this morning, it was half eight."

"Timothy…" I say, standing up. "You've just saved you and your friends from getting an ASBO and a very pricey fine."

I go to the door and bang on it to let Bailey know I was finished. "By the way, Timothy, even though you're innocent, I hope that this is an eye-opener on the path you're gonna choose."

"It certainly has," says Scoop.

The door opens and waving at Scoop, I leave the cell. Scoop stands up from the bed and heads for the door, but Bailey slams the door shut, locking it.

Clearing my throat, I walk down the corridor. "Well, Sergeant Bailey, it seems that Mr. Hinklebottom didn't tell me much about last night and the truth serum didn't help either. Apparently, the boys down at the MI9 lab thought it would be funny to put water in the syringe rather than the serum. But don't you worry, sergeant, when I get back to MI9, those dummy scientists will get what's coming to them."

I push open the double doors that lead to the front desk and entrance. I walk into the reception area and I head for the exit, only to see two of the burliest-looking policemen blocking the exit, their arms crossed and their faces red.

"What the hell?" I say to myself. I turn around and see four policemen including the woman in the front desk blocking the other doors. Bailey makes his way to the front. "What is the meaning of this, Sergeant Bailey?"

"While you were having a talk with Mr. Hinklebottom, I took the liberty in calling MI9 to see if there was an Agent Penny Brown working for them," he says. "Turns out that there is a Penny Brown – but she's forty-five years old!"

Uh-oh!

"So, while we're waiting for an MI9 car to come and take you away 'Agent Brown', you're gonna tell me exactly who you are and why you want to know about the HSBC vandalism case," Bailey tells me. "Unless you are who I think you are…"

A loud roar on the street drowns out Bailey's words. It's not a pneumatic drill because I didn't see or hear any road works on my way to the station or when I went in. What is that deafening roar?

"Can you hear me?!" Bailey yells over the roar.

There's a vibration in my chest. It's my phone. I pull it out of my inside blazer pocket and ignoring the missed calls and voicemail messages I read the text.

_Cover your ears and run for cover!_

Placing the phone back into my pocket, I head for the side of the vending machine by the door and cover my ears. There's an earth-shattering roar. A roar so powerful it shatters the glass of the front desk and the windows of the station, knocking out the burly policemen, Bailey and the others.

"What the hell just happened?" I ask, suddenly confused. I uncover my ears and peek my head out from the vending machine and there's a biker. He's astride a large motorcycle, leaning over the handlebars, grinning at me with such adorable dimples from under his red-and-black helmet, gunning the engine with his black-gloved hands.

"Jump on," he yells, slapping the space on the leather seat behind him.

I look at the unconscious police officers, then at the biker.

"Jump on!" the biker repeats.

I leave my hiding place of the vending machine and head out of the police station, jumping over the knocked out policemen and pull myself up onto the back of the big, black-and-chrome motorcycle, and grab the biker's leather-jacketed shoulders as he pulls away with an explosion and a powerful jolt.

The biker roars through a red traffic light, nearly colliding two middle-aged women on bikes. The streets whir by in a blur of parked cars and shops.

Where is he taking me? What am I doing here? I don't know him. I don't know anyone like him.

The big motorcycle seemed to explode again and with a burst of speed, the biker roars on, heading north towards Acton.

"Hey – stop! Stop!" I cry, suddenly regretting my impulsive decision.

But he can't – or won't – hear me.

I grip his shoulders, leaning against his jacket to my face out of the onrushing wind. I've made a mistake. I've made a terrible mistake.

xxoOoxx

A short while later, the biker skids to a stop at the entrance of Acton Park near Acton Central Overground Train Station, nearly ploughing into the back of a Volvo Land Cruiser. A woman dressed in a grey suit, walking a gigantic Rottweiler, sneers at the biker and gives him a dirty look. The big, sad-faced dog sniffs at the motorcycle. The woman tugs its leash and pulls it away.

Laughing, the biker slides off the seat and, pulling off his helmet, turns to me. He's tall and powerfully built with straight, dark hair and light eyes, and a perfect, straight nose. "Ugly dog, huh?"

I struggle to arrange my windblown hair, but it's impossible. "You nearly ran it over."

The biker shrugs his shoulders.

"Listen, it was really nice of you to rescue me," I say, then demand while pulling at my hair, "but who the hell are you?"

"I'm a friend of Zeke Williams," he replies. "Kenzie Simms."

"Of course." I slide forward on the seat so I could grip the handlebars. "He knew what I was doing was suicide, so he calls for back-up."

"Just call me your knight in shining leather." Kenzie grins. He runs a hand back through his short, straight hair.

"Right… well, I better call Zeke then, to thank him." I climb off the seat and pull out my phone from my blazer pocket and call Zeke.

"Jenny!" Zeke hails. "So nice to hear from you. Are you calling me from your own phone or from the police station's?"

"Ha, ha, very funny, Zeke," I say. "Still, thanks for sending in reinforcements."

"I had a feeling that the ol' boys in blue will catch you out, so I called Kenzie. What do you think of him?"

I turn to look at Kenzie. He smiles at me, revealing the deep dimples in his cheeks. Smiling back, I turn away from him. "Good-looking as he is, I would still prefer Frank to Kenzie."

"Hm. Anyway, how did you get on at the station?"

"Turns out that Scoop, Homie and JJ were listening to music while they while doing their homework last night."

"Is that all?"

"Uh-uh. Scoop then tells me that he blacked out from quarter to eleven last night till half eight this morning."

"All three blacked out while they listened to music?"

"Yeah. On their headphones."

"Who were they listening to?"

"A DJ called DJ Mega J. He hosts a pirate radio station called Swaggerbeatz FM."

There's tapping in the background. He's typing like quicksilver.

"I've hacked into Mega J's email account. His real name is Jerome Harris," Zeke tells me. "And he and his radio station are at 24 Swete Street, Plaistow."

"Plaistow?! That's the other side of London!" I exclaim.

"I'm sure Kenzie will take you there. That's if you ask nicely."

I laugh sarcastically and hang up. I turn back to Kenzie. "Hey, Kenzie? Got enough petrol in your motorcycle for a trip to the other side of London?"

"Just filled my tank up this morning. Hop on." He jumps onto the seat. "Where do you wanna go?"

I slide onto the back seat. "Swete Street, Plaistow."

"Alrighty, then! East London, here we come!" Kenzie starts the motorcycle with a roar and bursts away from the kerb, spins around and heads for Plaistow, while I hold onto the shoulders of his leather jacket for dear life.


	8. You Got Me MC Hypnotized

**(Frank's POV)**

I look at my phone for the umpteenth time and no reply. It's been nearly two hours since I left that message on Jenny's phone and she still hasn't replied back. I'm starting to get a bit worried now. What if something has happened to her? I shake my head dismissively. Of course nothing bad has happened. I'm just being stupid. Jenny can take care of herself. I need to distract myself. I'll go and see how Oscar, Rose and Carrie are doing. Putting the mop in the bucket, I wheel the mopping cart to the assembly hall.

Upon arriving by the door of the assembly hall, Oscar and Carrie come out.

"How are you guys getting on?" I ask them.

"Apparently, our suspect says that he doesn't remember vandalising the HSBC bank last night," says Oscar. "He says that he was at home playing on his PSP while listening to music on his headphones."

"He says that he must have blacked out because the last thing he remembered was looking at the clock by his bed which read eleven o'clock and he says that he didn't wake up until half past eight this morning," says Carrie.

"He blacked out…?"

"While he was listening to music. Remember, Frank, everyone in that CCTV footage were wearing headphones."

"So who was he listening to?" I ask.

"Some DJ called DJ Mega J," says Carrie. "He hosts this pirate radio station called Swaggerbeatz FM."

"Rose went to HQ to check out the Swaggerbeatz website," says Oscar.

There's a buzzing sound. Carrie pulls out her pencil communicator and answers it. "Hey, Rose. OK. OK then." She hangs up. "Rose has hacked into Mega J's email account. His real name is Jerome Harris, nineteen years old and his address is 24 Swete Street, Plaistow."

"I say we should go and pay Mr. Harris a visit," Oscar suggests.

"Be careful, agents," I say cautiously.

Nodding their heads, Oscar and Carrie walk off.

Before I can wheel the mopping cart to the storage cupboard, I hear Mrs King call my name, "Frank!"

"Mrs King!" I say, quickly turning around.

"Have you heard back from Jenny yet?"

I shake my head. "Sorry, Mrs King."

Mrs King crosses her arms over her chest. "Ohhh. I'm really worried about her. What if something has happened to her? I'll never forgive myself."

"Mrs K, this is Jenny we're talking about. I'm sure that whoever goes up against Jen will be eaten for breakfast. That person will have to think twice before they challenge Jen," I tell Mrs King assuredly.

"Hmm. I hope you're right, Frank."

Mrs King walks off, still feeling unsure about what I said. _I'm_ feeling unsure about what I said. I pull out my phone again to see if Jenny has replied. Nothing. Sighing, I wheel the mopping cart off to the storage cupboard.

Oh, Jen, I hope that you're OK.

**(Jenny's POV)**

After nearly an hour and a half of clinging onto Kenzie's leather jacket for dear life, we finally reach our destination.

"We're here," says Kenzie.

I climb off the seat of his motorcycle and look at the building. It's a three-storey 1970s terrace house. I turn my attention back to Kenzie.

"Thanks for the lift, Kenzie," I say.

"No problem," he says. "By the way, Zeke wanted me to give these to you."

Kenzie reaches in the pockets of his jacket and pulls out a gold lipstick tube and a rectangular black box.

First, he holds up the lipstick tube. "This is the Lipstick Stun Gun. A concealable weapon shaped and sized like a lipstick tube." He gives the lipstick tube to me and opens the black box. It's a black velvet choker necklace with a silver cat head-shaped centrepiece. "Next, we have the Voice Alterer. This gadget allows you to change your voice. Push together the cat ears of the centrepiece and it'll activate the speaker and microphone."

"Wow!" I say as he hands me the choker.

"Oh, and I have one final gift to give you."

He goes into his pocket again and takes out a piece of paper, handing it to me. I look at the card. It has his name and his… phone number. I look at Kenzie, feeling hot and red as he uses his hand to do an impression of a phone.

"Call me," he mouths.

With a wink, he takes off. I stand on the pavement and watch him roar around the corner. My heart feels almost sick witch excitement, and my insides are still shaking. He fancies me. I mean he _really_ fancies me. I sigh and shake my head as I put the paper and the Lipstick Stun Gun in my pocket. After placing the Voice Alterer choker around my neck, I head into the council flat.

After reaching stairhead of the third floor, I decided that I needed a change in outfit. I look around to see if anyone was around. Knowing that the coast is clear, I open my wristwatch communicator and press the blue button above the keypads and change into my catsuit.

Coming out of the stairwell, I make my way to the end of the building, reaching a red door that was slightly open with a gold plated '24' on the door. I gently push the door open and quietly enter the flat.

Closing the door behind me with ease, I walk down the short, small corridor as there is no-one in the kitchen and the living room is empty. I look up the staircase by the living room door. It seems that Harris is hiding upstairs. I start to creep slowly up the stairs, trying not to make a sound. Reaching the landing, I see that the bedroom door by the staircase is the only one is open. I cautiously enter the room. The room is medium-sized, with white wallpaper and a dark blue carpet and various posters of rap stars plastered on the wall. There's a large tan-coloured wardrobe opposite the door and a single black-framed bed with a navy blue duvet in the corner of the room by the window with a tan-coloured bedside drawer that has a black alarm clock. And opposite the bed are the audio sources, the mixing and transmission equipment and filters used to make Jerome's pirate radio station, Swaggerbeatz FM. And speaking of Jerome, I spot him sitting on his black swivel chair, facing the window.

"All right, Harris. How's about you turn that cornrow head of yours and face me so I can see what your face would look like when I cuff you?" I say to Jerome. He does nothing. He says nothing. He's still sitting on his chair, with his back to me. Sighing deeply, I walk over to Jerome. "Maybe I didn't make myself clear, Harris. I said tu-"

I stop mid-sentence when I spin his chair around. His wrists are tied up with a piece of white cloth and his mouth is gagged with a tennis ball.

"What the…?" I ask, removing the tennis ball from Jerome's mouth.

"Behind you!" he says.

I quickly turn around but it's too late. The figure behind me smashes a plate over my head, knocking me out.

Ouch…

xxoOoxx

I wake up with a groan. The side of my head is pounding and I feel really dizzy. I try to massage my temples but I can't move my hands. They're tied behind my back. I can't move my legs either. My ankles are tied up as well.

"Uhhh… son of a _bitch!_" I groan.

"Ah, good. You're awake," says a voice.

I lift my head and see a slender twentysomething black guy with a diamond earstud in a tight white T-shirt to show off his toned body sitting by the radio equipment opposite the bed I'm sitting on.

"I take it you're not Jerome Harris," I say.

"Nah…" he says. "I'm his cousin, Jamal Frazier."

"Cousin?"

"My mum is the sister of Jerome's dad."

"I see… Uh, listen, Jamal. How's about explaining to me why you used your cousin's equipment to hypnotize the teens and young adults of London into attacking the HSBC banks. And maybe at the same time, you could untie me while you're telling me the story."

"I'm _not_ gonna untie you. But I will tell you why I'm doing this." Jamal turns to the window. "My sister, Imani, used to work at the HSBC Tower in Canary Wharf. Five years she worked there. She was hard-working, organised and she loved to learn and develop her skills. Then… the recession comes in and her and 4, 000 other people are made redundant. Losing her job meant that she couldn't afford to live in her luxury flat in Cabot Square that was near her workplace, so she gave it up. She moved back to me and mum's place where she does nothing but drinks and smoke dope all day and all night. And because of that, her and Mum argue. I mean _really_ argue. Mega throw-glass-at-the-wall-and-have-a-neighbour-call-the-police arguments."

"Well, that explains why all the HSBC banks across the city got trashed," I say. "But how did you hypnotize the people into doing it?"

"Covet hypnosis. I can hypnotize others without them knowing."

"That explains the blackouts. You used Jerome's radio equipment into hypnotizing everyone without them knowing they were being hypnotized."

"Exactly. That is until Jerome had to butt in and disrupt my broadcast. So I had him tied and gagged. He's being like that since last night." I turn to Jerome. The tennis ball is back in his mouth and now he's blindfolded with an eye mask. I turn back to Jamal. "Now, I've finished my transmission. While you were unconscious, I hypnotized anybody who listens to Swaggerbeatz FM into attacking the HSBC Tower."

"What?!" I say.

Jamal looks at the alarm clock on the bedside drawer. "Yeah. Right now, anyone who listened to my transmission will be making their way to Canary Wharf to tear down the place where my sister worked her arse off for five years. Now that's one problem done..." He then turns to me and smiles evilly, "another one to go…"

Jamal stands up and walks over to me, but I stop him in his tracks.

"Wait!" I say.

"What?" he says, now slightly annoyed.

"Remember that scene in the A-Team movie where Brock Pike was in that car with Agent Lynch and his men, and Pike told Lynch to have his hands tied to the front and not the back because Pike had his hands tied to his back and he uncuffed them and attacked Lynch's men?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

I show Jamal my hands – untied. While he was talking about his sister, I managed to successfully free my hands. If only the idiot had handcuffs instead of cloth.

"This is what happens when you monologue, Jamal," I say, with an impish grin on my face.

"You fucking bitch!" he says, making a grab at me.

My hand flies out, hitting his face. He screams and staggers, clutching his head. I untie my ankles and reach for the Lipstick Stun Gun in the canister of the utility belt. Jamal steadies himself and turns to me looking P-I-S-S-E-D. The left side of his face red with anger as well as with blood.

"Wh-why you–!" Jamal takes a swing at me, but I dodge it. I remove the lid of the lipstick tube and as Jamal takes another swing at me, I jab the stun gun below his ribcage.

"GAAAHHH–!" Jamal screams, as the volts charge through his body.

After five seconds, I pull the Lipstick Stun Gun from his ribcage. With a dazed look on his face, Jamal drops to the floor, his muscles twitching uncontrollably.

"Never come between a girl and her lipstick." I blow the smoke from the electrodes of the stun gun and cover it up with the lid. I turn my attention to Jerome. I go over to him and remove the eye mask from his face and the tennis ball from his mouth, and I untie his hands.

"You OK?" I ask Jerome.

He nods. He looks at Jamal's twitching body. "What about him?"

"Oh, he'll be right as rain in a few hours. Right now, I need your help in operating the equipment. I'm gonna reverse the hypnosis that Jamal put on the people who listen to this station."

"How? Everyone heard Jamal's voice, they won't listen to you."

"You're gonna have to trust me, Jerome."

Nodding his head, Jerome walks over to his makeshift radio station and hands me the microphone and the headphones. After flicking switches and pressing buttons, Jerome nods his head to me, signalling me to speak.

I push the cat ears on centrepiece of the choker and the speakers and microphone come on. "Hello, everyone. This is Jamal Frazier speaking. Listen to my voice; you are now under my control. You are to stop where are. Do not attack the HSBC Tower. I repeat, do _not_ attack the HSBC Tower. Return to whatever you were doing before I made the transmission. Oh, and to any young listeners, you are to stay in school and study hard. Say no to drugs and alcohol. And remember: safe sex is the best sex. Use a condom. Over and out."

Jerome stares at me astonishment as I remove the headphones.

"Bu – you're voice – how did you – what!?" he stammers.

"I know. That's one of the perks of being a crime-fighter: the awesome gadgets," I say. "Now, back to the chair. I have to tie you up."

"What? Why?"

"MI9 think that you're the mastermind behind all of this. However, if they see you bound and gagged, and see Shakin' Stevens on the floor here, you'll be home free. Even though MI9 will confiscate your radio stuff as pirate radioing is illegal."

"You have a point there. But what makes you think that Jamal will be here when MI9 arrive?"

I take out the Lipstick Stun Gun and remove the lid, jabbing it in Jamal's upper hip.

"Aieee!" he babbles.

Removing the stun gun from his hip, I watch Jamal drool on the carpet while his body continues to twitch.

"Happy?" I ask Jerome.

"Very." He walks to the swivel chair and sits on it. "Still, I can't help but feel sorry for him."

"Hm. But hypnotizing the city's kids into attacking the HSBC banks will not get his sister her job back," I say as I tie Jerome's ankles and wrists with the white cloth. "It's not too tight, is it?"

Jerome shakes his head.

"OK, good." I pick up the tennis ball. "Now before I pop this in your mouth, I want you to promise me that when this whole thing blows over, you'll get a decent education, a job and help out your family."

"Believe me, after seeing Jamal act the way he was acting, I promise to even go to church every Sunday."

There's banging outside. "Open the door! This is MI9!"

"Time for me to bust a move," I say, placing the tennis ball in Jerome's mouth. I make my way to the window and open it wide. Climbing out of the window, I turn to Jerome and give him a wave, and then I jump. As I fall mid-air, I open my wristwatch communicator and press the green button above the keypads, activating the Rocket Go-go Boots that were fitted on the toe and heel.

I quickly pull myself up in the air before I ended up like pancakes. While flying back to St Hope's, I open my communicator to check if I have any missed calls or messages.

"You have twenty missed calls and one voicemail," says the automated voice.

"Let me hear the voicemail," I say to the communicator.

There's a beep and the voicemail comes on.

"Oh, hi, Jenny. It's Frank. Listen, er, your Aunt Hermione… Mrs King, has just, er, called me to call you to see, or hear that you're OK. She said that you had a right pop at her when she pulled you away as you were blocking the policemen's path and for letting them take Scoop, Homie and JJ away. She's a bit worried about you so, er, just call her… or me. You can call me back just to say that you're OK. OK? Bye."

Shit! I completely forgot about Aunt Hermione. I feel so mean for yelling at her at lunchtime. I need to make it up to her. Better get myself down to Westfield.

**(Frank's POV)**

My phone rings. I quickly pull out my phone and see Oscar's name on the screen. Shoot, I thought it was Jenny.

"Oscar," I say, trying not to sound disappointed.

"Hi, Frank," he says. "Just wanted to let you know that we've caught the guy behind the hypnosis attacks. It wasn't Jerome Harris; it was his cousin Jamal Frazier."

"I see. Well, good work agents."

"Yeah, that's just it. It wasn't us who caught Jamal. It was the Cat."

"Of course. Right, well, bring Jamal in and I'll see you and Carrie tomorrow."

"OK. See you tomorrow, Frank."

I hang up and drag myself down the corridor. I look at my watch. It's just after quarter past five and she's not back. I've gone from worrying to panicking. Rose kept on telling me that Jenny is fine and that I shouldn't worry or panic, but I can't help it. I care so much about Jenny that if anything has happened to her I'll…

I stop in my tracks as I turn a corner. I see Jenny slump against the wall outside the door of Mrs King and Mr. Flatley's office, with some shopping bags by her feet.

"Jenny?" I say.

She sees me and starts waving. I go up to her and pull her into a hug. The sweet smell makes me suddenly clutch her tight.

"Hey, whoa! Easy, Frank!" she says.

I realise that I'm hugging her a little too tightly. I pull away, my face going bright red. "You're an idiot, you know that? Mrs King and I were worried sick. Where were you? Why didn't you call or text?"

"Sorry," she says quietly, looking very embarrassed. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to worry you or Aunt Hermione. After I ran out, I went to clear my head. I felt really guilty about what I did, so I went to Westfield to buy Aunt Hermione a present. Knowing that you were worried about me, Frank, I brought something for you, too. I hope you like it."

Jenny passes me a blue bag, which I take. I open the bag and pull out a fluffy grey medium-sized teddy bear. It has a blue nose and a matching blue ribbon around its neck.

"Do you like it?" Jenny says.

"I love it," I say, admiring the bear. I look at Jenny. "Well, I suppose I can't stay angry at you."

"Phew, thank God for that! Though, you do look cute when you're angry."

I can feel my face getting even redder. Jenny giggles and I can't help but give a little chuckle myself. I just couldn't help it. Every time I look at Jenny, she makes me smile. She's the best.

"Jenny?"

Jenny and I stop laughing. It's Mrs King. She doesn't look like her usual stern self. She looks composed, content and… glad. Glad that Jenny is back, safe and sound.

"Ah, hi, Aunt 'Mione," says Jenny, as she turns to face Mrs King.

"I'll, er, leave you two alone," I say, walking round the corner. I don't get too far from Jenny and Mrs King. I can vaguely hear them talking. Leaning against the wall, I look at the teddy bear that Jenny gave me and I sigh at it.

"Oh, just ask her out already!"

I jump and turn to see Rose standing there, her backpack over one shoulder with her hand holding the strap while her other hand is placed on her hip.

"Rose! You startled me!" I say, clutching my chest with my free hand. "How long have you been standing here?"

"Long enough," Rose replies. "So… are you gonna ask her out?"

I hesitant. "I-I don't know, Rose. I'm scared that she might say no."

"_Frank!_ Are you being deliberately irritating? She obviously likes you."

"Do you really think so?" I hiss, delighted.

Rose sighs. "Honestly, Frank, you are such a goofball. Ever since Jenny came to this school, you've being acting like a lovesick puppy."

"I haven't!"

"Of course you haven't. Oh, hi, Jenny."

"Nice try, Rose. As if I'm gonna fall for that one."

"Hi, Frank!" I hear Jenny say.

I push off from the wall. "Jenny, hi! Hi!" I say, sounding like a complete idiot. I feel my face going red… again.

"I just wanted to say that Aunt Hermione as forgiven me after I showed her the present I brought for her. It's a beautiful silver pearl and crystal spiral flower brooch. Anyway, her and I are gonna be pushing off now. So I'll see you tomorrow, Frank." She nods at Rose. "Bye Rose."

"Bye, Jenny," says Rose.

"Bye, Jenny," I say, giving her a little wave.

Waving back, Jenny walks off, clonking a little in her shoes down the corridor. I can still smell her sweet perfume. It's heaven. I turn to Rose, who's slowly shaking her head.

"Really, Frank. You are such a schoolboy," she says. "I mean, you do like her, right?"

"I don't think I like her, Rose." I look at the teddy bear once again. "I think… I think I'm falling in love with her."

I am. I am. I am.


	9. Twas the Kidnap Before Christmas

**(Jenny's POV)**

I just love Christmas! That time of the year where I shop for presents, spend time with my family and… to take time off as the Cat. Zeke and his parents have gone off on their annual Christmas vacation to Jamaica and they won't be back until after the first week of January. So, for the next three weeks, I'm just plain ol' Jenny Brownstone.

It's St Hope's last day of school before we break up for the holidays and I'm standing by the school gates, freezing my butt off because I'm waiting for Livi.

Livi is my little sister. I say little, she's five years younger than me, but she's taller than me. She's five-foot-seven and I'm five-foot-five. Like me, Livi is beautiful, popular and confident. But we're both different people: I'm a tomboy and geek rolled into one, while Livi is a girly girl who can attract male attention from a three mile radius. But we share everything. Clothes. Make-up. Secrets. (I haven't told her that I'm the Cat.) We practically do everything together. We watch films. (Though I like action and adventure films, but she likes rom-coms and chick-flicks.) We argue but then we make up. We like to bake treats such as cookies and what have you. We go out, either to shop, go to the cinema or go clubbing and we muck about. But now that she's in her first year of university and I'm either teaching or saving Britain, we don't see each other like we use to, unless we Skype. Which we've been doing every week for the last three months.

"Coo-ee!"

I turn and see Livi going tock-tock-tock in her black platform shoe boots, waving at me. As ever, she looks stunning. She's wearing a leopard print furry jacket, with a burgundy knitted jumper underneath. She has on a short, black figure-fit skirt and black opaque tights that covers her long legs. Along with her black leather shoulder bag, she's carrying various bags of what could only be shopping. Figures why she's late.

"Livi!" I say, my arms stretching out.

"Hi, Jen," she says, as she lunges forward, putting her arms around me. She lightly touches my cheek with hers and then repeats the gesture with my other cheek. "Sorry I'm late. I got… distracted."

"So I gathered."

She's looks at the building. "So… this is St Hope's. Finally, I get to see the place in where you work."

"Hmm. Come on. I'll give you the grand tour."

"But don't you have classes to teach?"

"It's the last day, so classes are cancelled. Everybody is pretty much doing their own thing. Now let's go. I've been waiting outside for you for twenty minutes and there's a possibility that I'll get a cold."

Livi links her arm in mine and we walk towards the school. As we walk across the playground, I look over my shoulder. I can't help the feeling that someone is watching us.

"You OK, sis?" Livi asks.

I turn to her and smile. "Just dandy. Let's go."

xxoOoxx

"So what's it like teaching. Do the pupils here give you grief?" Livi asks, as we walk down the corridor.

"Teaching is a doddle. And the kids here don't give me grief. We get on like a house on fire," I say, walking past Scoop and his friends, giving Scoop a fist bump.

"Safe, Miss B!" says Scoop.

"Wow, I'll say," says Livi, looking over her shoulder at Scoop and the others. "Hey, I've just realised something." She turns to me. "Isn't this the place where your boyfriend works?"

I sigh out of my nose. "How many times do I have to tell you this? Frank is not my _boy_friend."

"Well, what is he then?" says Livi.

Just as I was about to say 'He's just a friend', I see Frank walking towards us, getting nearer. He hasn't seen me yet. Oh no. He has. Oh, what shall I do? I look away. Oh, please don't let me blush. I'm getting hot; he's getting nearer still–

"Jen? Jenny, what's up?" says Livi. She looks at who I was staring at. "Oh, my God. Is he Frank?"

I swallow and nod my head.

He's right in front of me. I look up and he's smiling. "Hi, Jenny," he says.

"Hi, Frank," I say, smiling wistfully.

There is a little silence. I tuck my hair behind my ear, racking my brains for something, _anything_, to say… but Livi nudges me.

"Jenny, aren't you gonna introduce me to your _friend_?" she asks, jerking her head towards Frank.

"Right! Right, sorry," I say. "Er, Frank, this is my sister, Livi. Livi, this is Frank London."

Livi holds out her hand. "Jen has told me so much about you, Frank."

"Likewise, Livi," says Frank, taking her hand and shaking it. "Anyway, I better get back to work. See you later, Livi. Jenny."

"See you," Livi and I say in unison.

Frank walks past us while I dither, still in a daze.

"So…" says Livi, staring after him, "that's Frank London."

"Yeah," I mutter, looking back over my shoulder. He looks back at me but I turn away, my cheeks feeling pink.

"Mm-mm-mmm. I wouldn't mind having him sweeping me off my feet."

I glare at Livi.

"What?" she says, raising her palms as she shrugs her shoulders. "Besides, I thought Frank is not your boyfriend."

"Whatever," I say. "Let's go see Aunt 'Mione."

We reach Aunt Hermione and Mr. Flatley's office where they both come out. As Mr. Flatley closes the door, Livi bounces to Aunt Hermione, throwing her arms around Aunt Hermione's neck and giving her a hug.

"Hi, Aunt 'Mione!" says Livi, letting go.

"Hello, Livi!" says Aunt Hermione, laughing. "How have you been? How's university?"

"I'm great and university is fantastic. The amount of lush-looking lads on my course is just… heaven."

Aunt Hermione smiles. "Let me introduce you to Mr. Flatley. Mr. Flatley, this is my other niece that I've been telling you about. Livi, this is Mr. Flatley."

"Hello," says Livi, holding out her hand.

"Hello, Livi," says Mr. Flatley, taking her hand and shaking it. "Mrs King and Miss Brownstone have told me all about you."

"Likewise," says Livi.

"Anyway, I hope you'll be staying with us for the party."

"Party?"

"Yes. Every year at Christmas, before we break up for the holidays, we end the term with a Christmas party. So will you be staying?"

"Of course! And I've got the perfect dress for this. D'you mind if I use your office to get changed?"

"By all means," says Mr. Flatley, walking off. "See you in the assembly hall!"

"I suppose I'll have to stay with you, right?" I ask Livi.

"How else am I supposed to find the assembly hall?" she says.

"Here are the keys to the office," says Aunt Hermione, handing me the keys. "_Don't_ lose them. I'll see you two in the assembly hall."

Aunt Hermione walks off down the corridor as I unlock the office door. Livi enters with me following behind, closing the door. Livi sets down her shopping bags and furry jacket on Aunt Hermione's desk and lowers the blinds of the window, while I turn my back to her as she starts to undress.

"So… that Mr. Flatley guy seems nice," says Livi, rummaging through the bags. "Ah! Here we go!"

"Yeah, Mr. F is OK," I say. "I mean he can be quite weedy, pathetic and a bit cowardly, but he manages to get on with the pupils in a light-hearted way."

"Uh-huh."

There's a long pause.

"So what's going on between you and Frank?" Livi bursts out.

Even though my back is turned, I blush a little. "N-nothing is going on between me and Frank."

"Per-lease. I saw how you two were. Gazing into each other's eyes, no words coming out of your mouths and blushing so hard I thought your heads would explode. It's obvious that you two fancy the pants off each other like crazy. Why can't you admit it?"

"It's… it's complicated."

"How is it complicated?"

Like how I'm a vigilante crime-fighter, and the police and MI9 want my head on a plate.

"Look, if you don't tell Frank how you feel about him, someone's gonna snatch him up. Someone like, oh, I don't know… someone like me," says Livi. "OK, you can turn around now."

I turn around. Livi looks wonderful in a short emerald green figure-fit sequin dress with draped sleeves and black suede court shoes that elongate her bare legs.

"What do you think?" She twirls round in the dress that has a cut-out back design and starts striking poses like a fashion model.

"You look fantastic, Liv," I say.

"Great! Now it's your turn."

"Eh?"

"It's your turn to dress up now."

"What, why?!"

"You're outfit doesn't exactly scream 'Party season'."

I look down at what I am wearing – a dusty pink knitted jumper with a white shirt underneath and burgundy slim-fit trousers tucked into black wedge high-tops.

"I've got a show-stopping dress for you to wear and heels that'll make your legs so long that Frank will need a ladder to kiss you under the mistletoe," says Livi.

I roll my eyes at her and groan. "Oh, my God, Livi!" I say.

"Come on, Jen. You need to man in your life. You don't want to end up like a shrivelled up old maid, do you?"

I feel colour rush to my face, skin burning as I stare at Livi in disbelief. It's true that I don't have any experience at all; hell, I've never even kissed anyone before. I couldn't at school because I attended an all girls' school. It didn't happen in college because most of the boys on my course had girlfriends or they were gay. There was university, but because of my role as the Cat, I didn't have time for dating. I spent my three years in uni either having my head in the books or saving Britain. I mean, I pleasure myself, I watch the porn films and the clips on the Web, read the erotic books and I know how the technique of sex works, but… it would be nice to have someone to pleasure me.

"Why don't you shout 'Jen's a virgin!' on a megaphone so the whole school can hear?!" I hiss.

"Sorry. Look, once Frank sees you in the outfit I've chosen, he's gonna go gaga over you." She puts her chin down and pouts. "Come on, sis. What do you say? Please? Pwitty please? With sugar on top?"

I hate it when she uses that face. That's how she gets her own way because _she's_ the spoilt baby of the family. Still, I sigh in defeat. "Fine. I'll put on a stupid dress but only if you never mention what you just said about the shrivelled old maid again. Got it?"

Livi claps her hands and squeals in delight. She passes me one of the shopping bags.

"I've got a dress and some shoes that'll fit you," says Livi. "Afterwards, I'll do your hair and make-up. Frank is gonna be speechless."

Oh God, what have I gotten into?

xxoOoxx

"You look awesome, Jen!" Livi grins. "Cute and comfortable – the best ever combination!"

I smile widely, placing my hands on my hips, looking pleased with my look – a red tartan sleeveless prom dress with stiff netting that makes it stand out, a black studded biker jacket, the sleeves pulled up and black platform shoe boots with all-over metallic silver stud detail. Accessorised with a gold tone multi row animal pendant necklace and black heart earrings. Livi also worked on my hair and make-up. Since my skin is flawless, I didn't need much. Just a slick of cherry red lip gloss and a dusting of brown eye shadow. She painted my nails in electric blue and did my hair in a fishtail braid.

Livi also gives herself a makeover – bronzer just under her cheekbones and over the apples of her cheeks to instantly brighten up her face, candy floss pink lip gloss that makes her mouth incredible and outlined her eyes with kohl. She painted her nails in scarlet red and slicked her hair back into a ponytail.

"Looks like I'm ready to party," I say, smiling. "Question is, Livi… are you?"

"Is the Pope Catholic? Let's go!" says Livi.

Exiting out of the office, I lock the door and linking my arm with Livi's, we make our way to the assembly hall.

**(Frank's POV)**

I enter the assembly hall and it seems that the party is going well. The sweet smell of the mince pies and Christmas puddings floats over the room. The row of Christmas wreaths against the wall and two glittery Christmas trees with a few parcels and presents underneath on the stage, where Scoop is acting as DJ.

I walk over to the food and drinks table where there is lots of fancy food, from miniature quiches to sausages on sticks and there is Coke. Or the red wine punch that Mrs King and Mr. Flatley always give at Christmas parties because they don't want the pupils to get drunk.

I have a glassful of the punch and then I sit at the side by the stage, sipping my drink that tastes like undiluted Ribena, watching the pupils dance.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a small, rectangular box that's wrapped in green crepe paper tied with red ribbon. The box contains a charm bracelet that I'm gonna give to Jenny. At the same time, I'm hoping to confess my feelings to her. I have to tell her so. I am dying for her to know…

"Is that for Jenny?"

I look and see Rose, Carrie and Oscar standing in front of me. Oscar is pointing at the green box I have in my hand.

"Yeah," I say. "It's a charm bracelet." I shove the box back into my pocket.

"Ooh, vey fancy," says Carrie, sitting next to me. "At the same time, are you gonna confess your innermost feelings to her?"

"Yes…" I hesitant. "No… Maybe… I-I don't know…"

"God, Frank! This is so _annoying!_" Rose snaps. "You've been ogling after Jenny for nearly three months now. Every time you approach her or vice versa, you turn into a silly schoolboy with a crush. You say you love her, yet you haven't confessed it to her. When are you gonna grow a pair and just say it?!"

Oscar, Carrie and I stare at Rose, stunned. I've never seen Rose like this before. Rose herself is stunned at what she said and shrinks herself to the seat next to me and sips her drink.

"Rose is right," says Oscar. "If you don't buck up your ideas and confess to Jenny, someone else might approach her and sweep her off her feet."

"Someone like, oh, I don't know… someone like Mr. Flatley," Carrie jokes, nodding at Mr. Flatley.

Mr. Flatley is in the middle of the hall and he has a whole new dance style of his own. Bouncy-bouncy in his smart shoes. With head nodding and arms wriggling. I chuckle at the thought of him trying to win Jenny over with that stupid dance.

"OK, OK, you've convinced me," I say, smiling. "I'll tell Jenny."

As I say it there's a whole crowd of people by the door, buzzing like a hive of bees. There are gasps, squeals and wolf-whistling. People who are dancing on the floor turn and stare.

"Jenny!"

"Look at _Jen_."

"Jen! You look so–"

"Amazing!"

"Incredible!"

"Super-cool!"

Oscar turns to the door to see what's happening. "_Wow!_" he says.

"Why is everyone going all berserk?" I say, setting my glass of the wine punch on the floor and standing up from my chair.

My eyes widen and my mouth drop opens. It's Jenny and her sister Livi. Grinning as they stand nonchalantly in the doorway and they look _incredible_. Especially Jenny. I try to fight the urge to drool but I look at Jenny up and down admiringly. She looks magnificent. Especially with the legs she's got. They seem to go on forever, they're just so long. I wonder what they'll be like wrapped around my waist… NO! No, I can't... I mustn't think like that. Or so I keep telling myself.

Our eyes meet, and hold. She bats her eyelashes at me. Her smile is alluringly spicy. Oh, God, how I yearn to kiss those pouted red lips of hers…

"Frank?" says Carrie. "You're dreaming."

Yes. Keep on dreaming, Frank.

Livi pulls Jenny to the middle of the floor and they have a dance and then a laugh with some of the pupils. The boys stare at the sisters appreciatively. Livi positively glows like a lighthouse beam at the attention she's getting, but Jenny glances in my direction rather a lot.

She's igniting my flames with her racy repertoire, that she has me lusting after her is insane. I can't help it: she is tilting my world off its axis with her rapture of twists and turns.

"She wants you, Frank," says Oscar.

"Hmm," I reply, while never once looking at him.

Jenny continues to stare deeply at me while moving in place. Mm, I love her chocolate brown eyes. Passionately penetrating my senses as they smoulder with sexuality, they are stalking me with a look of want.

Geez, I want Jenny so bad I can taste her skin. It's delectable, delightful and delicious. Her body will tremble from my warm embrace; my gentle touch will make her quiver. I'll pull her into a big, deep kiss. It'll brand her with the kind of kiss that would leave her lips red and swollen later. I'll caress her, tease her and please her. By the time I'm done, she'll shudder and shiver through an endless series of moans.

"Frank, are you listening to me?" I hear Rose say.

I shake my head. "What?" I say, finally coming down to Earth.

"I said, why don't you stop with the obsessive staring and go and dance with her?"

"Or are you too scared?" says Carrie.

"Guys, you know that I'm a lousy dancer," I respond.

"Hasn't stopped Mr. Flatley," says Oscar.

Mr. Flatley is still in the middle of the floor and he is still dancing that embarrassing dance that you see a dad or uncle do at parties.

I peer around for Jenny but I can't see her anywhere through the crowded room.

Carrie gives me a nudge.

"She's over there, Loverboy," she says, pointing.

I follow the point of Carrie's finger and see Jenny at the food and drinks table, pouring herself a glass of red wine punch. Probably to cool and refresh herself from all that dancing she did. She gulps the drink and pours herself another glass. She's about to take a sip when she spots me. Smiling at me, she starts heading in my direction.

"She's coming over!" I say, slightly panicky.

"Looks like that's our cue to buzz off, then," says Carrie, standing up.

"Good idea," says Oscar. "See ya, Frank."

"Guys, you can't be serious! Don't leave me. _Please_, I don't want to be on my own with her," I hiss urgently.

"Grow up, Frank!" says Rose, as she stands up.

That's the trouble, I'm not sure I want to grow up.

Oscar, Carrie and Rose scatter before I can persuade them to stay with me. I look back to Jenny, who continues to walk this way, still staring at me.

My heart, threatening to come through my chest, is beating fast as she nears. Mm, those lips are so sexy. She's smiles with anticipation. That heated gaze is making me stiff.

There's no time to sweat.

Be cool, Frank, like the other side of a pillow.

"Hi there!" she says, standing in front of me, smiling.

"H-hi," I say, sounding like an idiot.

"You're not gonna dance?"

I chuckle. "Er, no. No, I'm not that much of a dancer."

"Hasn't stopped Mr. Flatley," she says, taking another sip of her drink.

She starts tapping her foot and clicking her fingers to the music. As she does that, I can't help but once again gaze at this exquisite creature that can be described as an African Queen. The cocoa brown complexion, the dark wavy hair that is braided and her equally dark, but gorgeous brown eyes. I'm not one to wax poetic, but they look like deep brown pools, pulling me deeper into their abyss.

"Frank?"

I realize that Jenny is talking to me. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

Jenny giggles. "It's obvious what you've been staring at." She spins on the spot. She places her hand on her hip and poses. "What do you think?"

"You look good. You look really cute… really sexy," I blurt out before I can stop myself. "I mean" – I pull myself together – "stunning! You look really stunning!"

Jenny stares at me. To my surprise, a smile spreads across her face. "Livi said that you'll be stammering at my appearance. Looks like I owe her a tenner."

"But you do look incredible."

"Thanks."

She closes her eyes and starts bobbing her head to the music. As soon as she does that, I repeatedly slap my forehead with the palm of my hand. Why am I such a doofus?! Stupid, stupid, _stupid!_

My mobile vibrates. I reach into my pocket and pull out the phone. I flip it open and read the text from Carrie.

_Hey, Romeo! How it's going? You give her the bracelet yet?_

I almost forgot that I have Jenny's present in my pocket. I want to give it to her, but after making a complete and utter berk of myself, I'm starting to think that this is a bad idea.

"Frank? You OK?" Jenny asks.

I look up from my phone and see that she has a look of concern. The concern in her gaze touches me. I put on a little smile. "I'm fine. Actually, I've got you a little present." I go into my pocket to retrieve the gift.

"Oh, my God!" she says as I pull of the green parcel from my pocket. She sets her drink on a chair as I hand over her present. My heart is hammering as she unties the ribbon and tears the paper off. She opens up the black box and gasps. "Frank, it's… it's… it's beautiful!" she says, and she gives me a hug.

"I'm glad you like it. Here, let me put it on for you," I offer.

Jenny pulls the charm bracelet from the box and hands it to me. Extending her left hand, I hook the bracelet firmly on her wrist.

"There!" I say. "It really suits you, Jenny."

Jenny admires the bracelet on her wrist. The bracelet is sterling silver that spells her name. And between the letters of her name is a different charm: a flower, a key, an angel wing, a clover leaf and a heart.

"Frank, this is so wonderful," says Jenny. "If I'd known we were going to give each other presents, I would've bought you one."

"Hey, it's OK," I say. "You'll give me my present when we come back."

She strokes my arm gently. Suddenly, her eyes light up. "Be right back."

I wait as she fades into the crowd of dancers on the floor. What is she up to? She comes back a moment later with her hands behind her back, her cheeks shining salmon-pink. "Um… I-I was… I was wondering… if we could do this." Jenny reveals the mysterious item she hid behind her back. It's a sprig of mistletoe.

I gulp and blush at the thought of kissing Jenny under the mistletoe.

"I, er, got this from the doorway to the hall," says Jenny, looking pretty and pink. "This is just to say, er… thanks for, er, being here for me. Making me feel welcome and comfortable in the three months I've been in St Hope's. And also for the gorgeous bracelet that you gave me. I-I mean we don't have to do this if you don't want to…"

"Oh no, no, I want to!" That's right, sound desperate.

"Great! That's great. Let me, er… let me get into position."

Jenny holds the mistletoe above our heads. She closes her eyes and puckers her cherry red lips for a kiss. I swallow and closing my eyes, I pucker my lips and slowly lean towards Jenny. I can't believe I'm gonna kiss her! I've been waiting for this moment for almost three months. I'm so close to her, I can smell her sweet perfume. Nothing can spoil this beautiful moment… _nothing!_

_THUD!_

"Hmm?" Still in pucker-mode, I open one of my eyes to see that Jenny isn't standing in front of me. I relax my lips and open my other eye to see that Jenny is lying unconscious on the floor. "Jenny!" I exclaim, kneeling by her side.

_THUD!_

I look up and see that everyone is starting to drop like flies.

"What the…?" I feel something bite my neck. I swat my neck but suddenly, I feel dizzy and sleepy. My eyes… I-I can barely… I can barely able to keep them open. I… I fall to the floor… lying next to Jenny. My eyes are… getting even heavier. The last thing… The last thing I-I see, through blurry vision… is a dark figure… heading towards… me and… Jenny…

xxoOoxx

"Frank? FRANK!"

"Whurr…?" I groan.

I open my eyes.

The voices, the people start to come back. I can see Oscar kneeling by my side, looking anxious but relieved.

"Hey, Frank."

"What's going on? What happened?" I ask, looking dazed. I start to sit up.

"Everyone in the room was all knocked out by some sort of knock-out dart," Rose explains. She looks at her watch. "Looks like we've been out for about half an hour."

I look around and see everybody waking up looking confused, curious and a bit frightened. I look down to check on Jenny… but she's not there!

"Jenny? Where's Jenny?" I ask as I start to get up. I look around. Maybe she's with Livi. I look to where Livi was dancing... but Livi's not there either. "Where's Livi? Livi? Jenny? Where are they?!"

"Maybe they went to the toilets," says Carrie.

"No, they can't have. I didn't see Jenny or Livi when I woke up," says Rose.

"Whoever fired the darts must've taken them when everyone was unconscious," says Oscar.

"No!" I cry. I run out of the assembly hall and rush through the corridor. I still feel dizzy and my legs feel shaky but I don't care. All I care about is Jenny and Livi. I come out of the school, where I see tyre tracks on the playground. The tracks look dense, like they come from a van. I dart across the playground but stop at the gates where the tyre tracks end. I look left and right to see which way the van went, but to no avail. "Argh!" I growl, running my hands back through my hair.

Who would have taken Jenny and Livi? And what do they want with them?


	10. My Little Stalker

**(Jenny's POV)**

"Jenny? Jenny, wake up!"

"Mmmm…" I moan, slowing opening my eyes. I shake my head to regain focus. One minute, I'm about to have my first kiss with Frank under the mistletoe, next thing you know I wind up in someone's bedroom. The room is medium-size coloured in red and cream, and white carpet that looks soft and thick to lie on. There's a king bed with a luxurious red tog duvet and matching pillow not far from I am sitting, with a cherrywood drawer next to it. Opposite the bed is a large desk and chair with a flat screen television mounted into the wall. I try to move my hands but my wrists are tied behind my back. "Shit!" I mutter to myself. As I try to wriggle free, I look up at Livi. She's sitting across from me. Like me, her hands are tied behind her back. She looks very tense. "Livi? Liv, what's wrong?" I ask anxiously. I look to see what she's staring at. I freeze in horror. "What the fu…?"

There's a mirror over the desk next to the flat screen TV and all around it are hundreds… of pictures… of… Livi. Fuc_king_ hell! The desk is like a shrine dedicated to her. Livi looking cute. Livi looking coy. Livi pouting, smiling, posing and prancing like a human version of My Little Pony in pink stilettos and skin-tight jeans. There are some pictures of Livi with her friends from school and college but their faces are cut out from the pictures. The pictures are taped up kind of slapdash, overlapping each other, spreading out like a cloud from the mirror's edges. Here and there, mixed in, I can see a picture of an exotic, romantic-looking boy in a mustard yellow sweatshirt with a red and blue checked shirt underneath. He looks foreign; his skin under the dark tan had an olive cast. South European, maybe? But when I look at the eyes behind his black-framed glasses, I see that his eyes are blue. Half European then, with a touch of Caucasian somewhere along the line.

Whatever his origins, he is undoubtedly handsome. Like an eastern prince. Broad shoulders, narrow hips with short, black hair, spiked straight up. Nineteen or twenty at most.

I look at the picture, taking in that smiling, good-looking face of this dishy dreamboat. And then I see it; one, stuck at the top, that I hadn't notice before. It's a picture of Livi with a boy at a club, but the head of the male partygoer is replaced by a cut-out head of the gorgeous, but now creepy and obsessive glasses-wearing boy.

Wide-eyed and a tad bit freaked out, I resume to trying to realise my tied-up wrists. Whilst struggling, I turn my attention from the creepy collage to Livi, who's looking uneasy but not as over the top hysterical as I thought she would be.

"Don't worry, Livi," I say, feeling the bounds on my wrists loosen. "When we get out of here, I'm gonna put my foot so far up this creep's arse that the studs on my shoes will be poking out of his nostrils!"

Livi is quiet. She tries to speak, but she can't find the words.

"Livi?"

"Why?" she says numbly. "Why is he doing this?"

"What?! You mean you know this Looney Tune?"

I hear footsteps and the key turning in the door. A head pokes out from around the door. It's the boy from the picture!

"Excellent!" he says, grinning impishly.

The boy enters the room with two of the biggest and burliest men I've ever seen, their heads as round as a football but with little prickles all over, a serious don't-mess-with-me haircut. Make that hair_shave_.

"Well done, Jeremy and Kyle," says the boy. His English is perfect but it still held a hint of an Italian accent. The boy walks towards me and Livi. He stands in front of Livi. "Hello, darling Livi."

Livi says nothing. The boy puts his hand under her chin so she has to look up at him.

"My, my. Don't you look _bella_?" he says.

"Hey, Captain Creepy!" I call to the boy. "Get your grubby hands off my sister!"

The boy turns to me and removes his hand from Livi's chin.

"You must be Jenny. Livi has told me all about you," he says. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ellis Molinelli…"

"I really don't give two shits who you are," I cut in. "What I want to know is why you kidnapped me and Livi, and why you have all those pictures of Livi on the wall?"

Ellis turns to Livi. "Should I tell her the story or should you?"

She stays quiet.

"OK, I'll tell her," he says and turn to me. "It all started three months ago. It was the first day of uni. I was feeling very nervous as I'm very far away from home (I'm from Italy) and I had no one to talk to. I felt so lonely. That is until the most _bella ragazza_ in the world approaches me and introduces herself as Livi Brownstone. When I saw her, I was immediately taken by her exotic beauty. Never before had I seen such beauty in a woman. The thought of me approaching someone like her would have mortified me – I could never gather up enough courage to talk to her. But when she came to me, my head was swirling in shock and my stomach was filled with nervousness and excitement. She did most of the talking. I couldn't think of a thing to say. I was just sitting there dying, wishing I could come out with something, _anything_. Then she asked me if I wanted to grab lunch after lectures with her. So I said yes. We went to a Pizza Express, where we ordered the classic margherita pizza and we talked some more. I tell her stuff and she tells me stuff. It turns out that we like mostly the same things: from the clothes we wear to the music we listen to. It's as if we were made for each other."

"So… what happened?" I ask.

"Livi and I spent the week getting to know each other and I was completely smitten by her. I liked her so much that I plucked up enough courage to ask her out for coffee on Friday, to which she agreed. However, I thought of this as a date and I turned up in a suit, carrying flowers and chocolate. When Livi saw me, she freaked out and she… what is that word? _Scappare_…?"

"Scarpered?"

Ellis clicks his fingers. "That's it! She scarpered, leaving me standing alone. I never felt so embarrassed. On Monday morning, I went up to Livi and asked her why she ran off when she saw me. Livi wanted us to talk about this later, but I told her that I wasn't gonna leave until she told me. She said that even though she's very flattered, she wasn't interested in me. Then I asked why she wasn't interested in me. Was it because of what I wore that day or didn't she like me at all? And what did you say, Livi?"

"Please don't make me say it, Ellis," says Livi, shaking her head.

"_What_ did you say?" He turns to Livi. His eyes are piercing. It makes Livi acutely uncomfortable.

Livi sighs. "I said that I liked you a lot, but not in that way," she responds quietly.

Ellis nods. "Mmm-hmm. Then you had the nerve to say we should forget that this ever happened. But how _can_ I forget? You and I were made for each other. _You_ are the love of my life!"

"Ellis, we went out once," Livi reasons. "The only reason I spent all week with you is because no one else did."

"We–" Ellis places his hand on his chest. "We connected!" he snaps.

"A-anyway… what happened next?" I ask, trying to calm Ellis down.

Ellis shakes his head, and frowns. "Nothing. Nothing happened. We went our separate ways. I went back to being Billy no-mates, while Livi went to party with her friends and flirted with every Tom, Dick and Harry that came her way. I… I just couldn't get what I did wrong. I was attentive, charming and acted like a gentleman towards Livi… and she throws it back in my face!"

"What about the pictures on the wall?"

Ellis twitches his nose to hitch his glasses into place and moves over to the work desk. "These are from her Facebook page. You see, I've been watching you, Livi." He turns to her. "Not just on Facebook and Twitter… but in real life."

"What?" Livi stammers.

"For the past three months, you, Livi, have been under constant surveillance. I've been following you like a dog wanting to be loved. I would follow you to the library after lectures, where you would study and do some reading. I take the pleasure in watching and observing you. I just love how you'd concentrate hard on your work. Afterwards, I would follow you home. I would stand outside your house – out of sight, of course – and I would fantasize about you, the girl who sits six rows and two seats over from my desk."

"Oh… my… God!" Livi says astonished.

"But uni and home aren't the only places where you would stalk my sister, is it, Ellis? You followed her to St Hope's today, didn't you?" I say, remembering this morning. I had a feeling that we were being watched.

"And _il mio Dio_ did she look sexy and attractive in the furry jacket? Anyway, after you and Livi went inside, I made a call to Rent-a-Thug and got two of the meanest and dangerous men in the business – Jeremy Baxter and his twin brother, Kyle," he says, looking over his shoulder to Jeremy and Kyle, then turning back to me and Livi. "Rental for these guys is a thousand pounds each but luckily, I come from a wealthy family. I also provided them tranquillizer darts to knock everybody out and have them take you and Livi."

I give Ellis the most awful-astonished-appalled look I can muster up. I can't believe that my first kiss was robbed by this crazy little prick because he can't handle rejection.

Suddenly, something comes to my mind.

"Hey, wait a second," I say. "I can understand why you want Livi… but why am I here?"

"Ah yes, I almost forgot!" says Ellis, putting his hands together. "I am so _stupido!_" He turns to the football-headed twins. "Kyle, get the dresses."

Kyle, who looks the most aggressive than his brother, walks to a door that's located next to the table that Livi and I are sitting at (probably the bathroom) and enters it. He comes out a moment later holding in each on his hands two white dresses, each held on a hanger. One of the dresses is a long strapless gown and the other is a short sheath dress with long white gloves.

"Ellis… what's going on…?" I ask slowly.

"You wanted to know why I kidnapped you, and this is the reason," he says. "You are to be a bridesmaid for the wedding of me and…" He turns his head to Livi.

My eyes bug out of their sockets. As did Livi's; did we hear him right?

"Wha-wha-what?" Livi says nervously.

Ellis moves towards Livi. He gets on his knees, his face inches away from Livi's, and says, "You and me are gonna be husband and wife."

Livi sits there speechless as Ellis' hand caresses her cheek. He has a mischievous smile playing on his lips while staring into Livi's eyes.

"So Livi, how about making me the happiest man in the world and become my wife?" he asks.

She doesn't say anything for a long time. She takes a deep breath and lets it out. Then she says, "No."

This is not the response that Ellis wanted.

"What?" he says.

"You heard me," she says. "I don't want to marry you. Hell, I wouldn't even marry you if you were the last male and I was the last female on Earth. You are nothing but a pathetic little loser who can't handle rejection. You're a creep for following me like a deranged stalker and lastly, you're a lunatic for having all those pictures of me on the wall. So no, I don't want to marry you. Not now. Not ever!" Then she sticks her tongue out to him. "Bleh!"

Ellis is so frozen with shock that he is speechless. He stands up and turns his back to Livi. I give her a triumphant nod. Sighing, Ellis runs his fingers through his hair. He tugs at it ruefully.

"I am so disappointed that it has to come to this, Livi," he says.

Suddenly he turns, and swiftly takes out a syringe from his jeans pocket and jabs Livi's left arm with it.

"GYAA!" she screams.

"Livi!" I scream.

With one tug, the bounds on my wrists break free. Leaping from my seat, I ball my right hand into a fist. It reaches out and I punch Ellis really hard across the face. His head rocks in shock, his eyes popping like they're going to roll right down his cheek.

I feel a hand grab a fistful of my hair. The hand yanks me back and slams me roughly against the door frame. My back arches as it hits the frame and I fall to the ground.

"O-w-w-w-w-w!" I cry in pain.

I look up and see one of the football-headed twins standing over me. He grabs me by the front of my dress with one hand. His _other_ hand is raised into a big fist ready to give me a punch.

"_Stop_, Jeremy!" Ellis shouts.

Jeremy lets go of me and moves aside. Ellis walks straight up to me, his cheek black and blue by my almighty punch. He takes his glasses off and wipes them with his shirt. He puts his glasses on and takes a deep breath.

"You've got spunk, Jenny… and I like it," he smirks. "I like a girl who has got balls. Maybe I should have gone after you, instead of Livi."

"Fuck you, Molinelli!" I say, sticking my middle finger up at him. Then I demand, "What the hell did you do to my sister?"

Ellis flaps his hand at me. "Oh, it's just a little morphine to make her weak and slightly less able-minded."

I look at Livi. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as the drowsiness kicks in.

"You see, I had a feeling that Livi would say no to my proposal, so before I had my twins kidnap you and my bride, I went to the local chemist and I got me some morphine," says Ellis. "I didn't want it to come to this, but I don't think she left me with a choice." As he says it he turns to Livi, who has conked out. Then he turns to me. "As for you, Jenny… as much as I wanted you to be a bridesmaid at my wedding, it looks like you'll have to be detained. Jeremy?"

Jeremy roughly takes me by the arms. He opens the door to the bathroom and flings me in it. I stumble but I manage to grab the wash basin to stop myself from bashing my face in. I turn and see Jeremy shutting the door. I run up to it and turn the handle, but it won't open. I brace my shoulder against it and shove, but the door won't budge. Something must be jamming the door.

"Ellis, open this door right now!" I shout, hammering the door. "_Ellis!_"

"Sorry, Jenny. I can't hear you over the wedding bells that Livi and I are ringing," Ellis says behind the door. "It's a pity you can't come to this wedding. You would have made a _bella damigella d'onore_. Anyway, can't talk. I've got a dream girl to marry. But don't worry, I'll send you a postcard from my honeymoon suite in Tuscany. _Ciao_!"

"Ellis, you get back here! Ellis!" I shout.

The door to Ellis' room shuts. I beat my fists hard against the bathroom door but… nothing.

"Ahhh!" I yell in frustration and fall to my knees. I shake my head and try to swallow back fresh tears. I can't believe this is happening. That crazy Italian stallion bastard has drugged my sister into marrying him and here I am, stuck in a bathroom and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I'm sorry, Livi. I'm so very sor–

"Mmmmmmmm!"

What is that?

I freeze. I turn around and my eyes darts from the basin to toilet to shower and bathtub, the bathtub covered by the blue shower curtain.

"Hello?" I call.

"Mmmm!"

I stand up and slowly tiptoe to the shower/bathtub.

"Hello?" I call again, more softly this time. Reaching the shower/bathtub, I pull back the curtain and gasp at the sight I see.


	11. Matrimony Mayhem

**(Frank's POV)**

I've just spent the last ten minutes typing away at the computer, trying desperately to track Jenny via her mobile phone. But so far, nothing. Either her phone is off or the person who has taken her and Livi has taken the phone. I've tried Livi's phone but hers is in Mrs King's office. Sighing heavily, I turn on my swivel chair away from the computer screens and I rub my eyes. I'm so tired, but there's no way I'm gonna give up. I'm gonna find you, Jenny and Livi. And when I find the person responsible for this, I'm gonna…

_SWOOSH!_

The elevator doors open and Oscar, Rose and Carrie run up to the computers.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"We found a clue on who has taken Jen and Livi," says Carrie.

"It's a piece of cloth that was caught on the door to the assembly hall," says Oscar. "Rose is gonna run some tests on it."

Rose scans the piece of black cloth with her Spy-Pod and types furiously on the keyboard.

"I've got something," she says.

A profile with photo pops up on the screen. The photo is a burly-looking man in his late-forties, with a bald head that has a few strands and stubble.

"His name is Jeremy Baxter," says Rose. "He and his brother, Kyle, have been involved in armed robberies, arson, assaults and kidnapping. They're also members of a website called Rent-a-Thug."

"No prizes in what that website is about," says Carrie, crossing her arms over her chest.

"He's left his email address on the website. I can hack into it and see if there's anything that can tell us where he and his brother kept Jenny and Livi."

As Rose starts typing away, I stand up and head to the lab. I go to the mini fridge and grab myself a can of Coke. I drum the top of the can with my thumbs.

"Don't worry, Frank. We're gonna find them," says Oscar, leaning against the pillar with his arms cross.

"Don't be silly. I'm not worried," I say.

Oscar slightly raises one eyebrow at me.

"I'm not!"

Actually, I am worried. I'm _very_ worried. There's one part of me that can't help thinking that something terrible has happened. But there's another part of me thinking that Jenny and Livi are OK.

"I've got something!" Rose hails.

I place the Coke can on the table top and leave the lab.

"Baxter has been hired by someone called Ellis Molinelli. They've been emailing each other for some weeks," says Rose. "Anyway, the last email that Baxter received from Molinelli was the on the morning of the kidnapping. It says that once Baxter has Livi and Jenny, he and his brother should bring them to the Rembrandt Hotel in Knightsbridge."

"And that's where we're gonna go," says Carrie.

"Hold on. Jenny and Livi can't see us like this," says Oscar. "If they do, we'll get relocated or worse, we'll get kicked out of MI9. We're gonna need a disguise."

"And I've got just the thing," I say, retreating back to the lab. Oscar, Carrie and Rose follow behind. I root through the cupboards until I find what I'm looking for. It's a small black matchstick box. I turn to Oscar, Rose and Carrie and I slide the box open revealing red and blue disk-shaped tablets. "Behold – Age-Deceiving Pills," I say. "These pills have the ability to change the outer appearance of the person who takes them, making them either older or younger. The red pills render the user older, while the blue pills make the user younger."

Oscar, Rose and Carrie each take a red pill and they pop it in their mouths. Within seconds of ingesting the pills, there's a puff of smoke. When the smoke cleared, the three of them attained adult forms of themselves. Oscar looks incredibly lean, very muscular and fairly athletic. His hair is now dark and short, but straight and he has facial stubble. Rose has an hourglass shape: wide shoulders and hips, and a distinctively narrow waist. Her eyes are now slightly smaller and her dark hair is now cascaded around her shoulders instead of her waist. Finally, Carrie looks waif-like and slim but slightly more athletic. Her facial features are the same, but her hair is long, fantastically plaited and tied in a high ponytail that falls to her shoulders.

"Whoa!" says Oscar in his deep voice. "We must have aged about ten years!"

"I look so sexy!" Carrie says excitedly, posing like a model.

"This is incredible, Frank!" says Rose, completely gobsmacked. "How long will we look like this?"

"The effects usually last for about half a day," I say.

"Twelve hours?! I can't go home like this!" Rose exclaims.

"Don't worry, you and Carrie can stay with me until the effects wears off," says Oscar. "Right now, we've got some friends to save."

"And some kidnapper's butts to kick," says Carrie, cracking her knuckles.

"Be careful, agents," I say.

Nodding their heads, Rose, Oscar and Carrie leave HQ.

"Hold on, Jenny and Livi. Help is on the way," I say to myself.

**(Jenny's POV)**

"_Mmmmmmmm!"_

_What is that?_

_I freeze. I turn around and my eyes darts from the basin to toilet to shower and bathtub, the bathtub covered by the blue shower curtain._

"_Hello?" I call._

"_Mmmm!"_

_I stand up and slowly tiptoe to the shower/bathtub._

"_Hello?" I call again, more softly this time. Reaching the shower/bathtub, I pull back the curtain and gasp at the sight I see._

It's a girl. She's lying in the bathtub with some brooms, mops and sponges, her wrists and ankles bound together with white cloth and her mouth is covered up with gaffer tape. The girl looks about the same age as me. She has a pretty, oval face with big, dark eyes, and piles of frizzy brown hair that she swept straight back and kept in place with a long, pearl-white hairband. She's wearing a white waist apron over a black pencil dress, with three quarter length sleeves and white collar, and white plimsolls.

"Oh, my God," I say. I carefully remove the tape from the girl's mouth.

The girl gasps for air. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" she says. She has a high-pitched voice. She sounds like a mouse.

"Are you OK?" I ask, as I untie the cloth from her wrists and ankles.

"I-I-I think so."

"What's your name?"

"I'm April. April Fields. I'm the housekeeper of the Rembrandt Hotel."

"Hotel?"

"Yes, we're located in the exclusive area of Knightsbridge. Who are you?"

"I'm Jenny Brownstone. What happened?"

"This room hasn't been cleaned in days and this morning, Mrs Chamberlain, the head housekeeper, said that whether the guest liked it or not, the room was getting cleaned and picked me to do it. So when I got in the room, the first thing I saw was those pictures on the wall. I was so shaken; I didn't hear the door open or footsteps entering the room. A cloth was put over my mouth and I was bundled in here, all tied up. The man said that if I screamed for help, he'd kill me!"

"Well, I'm here now. Don't worry, April, I'll get us out of here."

"How?" she asks, climbing out of the shower/bathtub.

"Hmmm… that's a good question." I look around the bathroom to see if I could use something to break me and April out of here. I spot a white cabinet sitting next to the shower/bathtub. I open the cabinet and it's filled with white towels and bath oils, soaps and bubbles of all scents… along with cleaning products such as detergents, disinfectants and bleaches, and some rubber gloves. Those bald football-headed bullies must have stashed them in here. I take out the cleaning products and start reading the labels on the back of the bottles.

"Er… what are you doing?" April asks curiously.

"I'm looking for hydrochloric or hydrofluoric acid," I reply, still reading the labels.

"Huh?"

"Hydrochloric or hydrofluoric acid is a highly corrosive compound that can burn through anything – clothes, skin, even doors," I say, nodding to the door. "So one of these cleaning products might contain one of the two compounds."

"Then it looks like you might need a helping hand."

April joins me by the cabinet and starts reading the labels. After a few minutes, she finds something that contains hydrochloric acid. It's Cleenol Acid Toilet Cleaner – a strong hydrochloric acid based limescale and stain remover. That's good enough for me.

"Great. Now before I melt away the door handle with this, we're gonna need to open that bathroom window as wide as possible, as well as cover our noses and mouths as this kind of acid can form acidic mist that can have corrosive effects on human tissue when inhaled, with the potential to damage respiratory organs," I say, putting on the yellow rubber gloves and twist the cap of the bottle.

April goes to the window above the toilet and opens it widely. I hand her a towel from the cabinet, which she places over her nose and mouth. I do the same as I remove the cap from the toilet cleaner. Careful as I can be, I take the bottle to the door. Reaching the door, I pour the bottle all over it and the handle, being extra careful that the liquid doesn't get on me. When I finish pouring, I back away from the door as the acid starts to eat away at that it. Within seconds, the hydrochloric acid burns a hole through the door, as well as the chair that jammed the handle.

"April, pass me the mop," I say, with the towel over my mouth.

She passes me the mop and standing in front of the basin, I use the mop to open the door and push the chair away.

"Let's go," I say, dropping the mop and exiting the bathroom, being careful not to step in any acid puddles. April follows after me. We leave the bedroom, closing the door behind us. We remove the towels from our mouths and breathe in fresh air. "Right. First things first… call the hotel manager. Tell him or her that there's been an incident and they should call the police… and maybe an ambulance."

"That's a good idea. Except for one tiny problem…" April says, pointing behind me.

I turn to see one of the football-headed twins standing several yards from where me and April are standing, his face angry and red.

"So… Phil Mitchell wants to play, does he?" I say, taking off my shoes and kicking them to the side. "Well, all I can say is bring… it… on!"

I beckon my hands to signal the football-headed twin to come here. With a smirk on his face, the twin comes charging towards me and April. I start charging towards the twin. As we draw nearer, the twins' hand is balled into a fist, ready to strike me but I gain the upper hand by throwing the towel I have in my hand in his face. While he's distracted, I smash my elbow into his stomach not only knocking the wind out of him but causing a powerful, blunt damage.

"Oomph!" the twin grunts, clutching his stomach. As he's doing that, I raise my right foot upward, and then lower it, striking him and knocking him to the ground. "Uuuh…" he groans.

I finish the twin off by striking the side of his neck with a karate chop, which instantly renders him unconscious but otherwise unharmed.

"That's fixed _you_," I say, dusting off my hands.

"OMG. That was _awesome!_" April squeals, catching up to me.

"Thanks. You better stay with baldy and call the hotel manager from here. If he wakes up, kick him really hard in the stomach."

"You got it, Jen." April goes to the unconscious twin. She takes out her mobile phone from her waist apron and calls the manager.

"By the way… does this hotel do weddings?" I ask April.

"Yes. The Rembrandt Hotel has a long and proud reputation as a Knightsbridge wedding venue."

"What room would a bride, groom and witness be in?"

"That'll be the Victoria Suite. It's located next to the lobby."

I take off. I stop to pick up my shoes. I look over shoulder and call to April, "Thanks, April!"

I run along the corridor, making for the elevator. I press the 'G' button of the elevator and down it goes, so fast that I feel my stomach going up. I leap off the elevator as soon as it opens. It's a relief to step out on ground level at last. I run wildly across the lobby, with everyone in the room staring at me. But I don't care. Don't worry, Livi, I'm coming. I turn the corner of the lobby and reach the doors of the Victoria Suite.

I burst through the doors open and I march into the room. "I object!" I cry out.

The registrar stares at me like I'm a crazy person. Ellis who is about to kiss my drugged-up sister, stares at me in disbelief that I escaped and got past his henchman, while his other henchman stares at me in anger.

"What is the meaning of this?" the registrar asks.

"I'll tell you, Mr. Registrar." I point to Ellis. "That Italian stallion bastard kidnapped me and my sister. He's drugged her and is forcing her into marrying him against her will!"

"What?!" says the registrar, shocked. He looks at Ellis. "You told me she was drunk because she was nervous and needed a drink to calm herself down!"

"And to think that you were stupid enough to fall for it," Ellis says to the registrar.

"Molinelli, you've got about a fraction of a second to unhand my drugged-up sister or things are gonna get physical up in here!" I say.

"You're too late, Jenny! Livi and I are husband and wife, and there's nothing you can do about it," says Ellis.

"We'll see about that!" I say.

Ellis turns to Kyle and jerks his head towards me.

Kyle stands up from his chair and takes off his jacket. I dump my shoes under a chair and I take off my jacket, along with the necklace and bracelet, pushing them under the chair. Kyle cracks his knuckles and his neck vertebrae. I just crack my knuckles. Adrenaline pumps through my body as I ready myself for his attack.

"Grrrrr!" he growls and charges towards me, his hand balled into a fist ready to smash my face in. Just as he takes a swing at me, I sidestep him, narrowing dodging the attack, causing Kyle to punch a hole in the door with his giant fist.

"Whoa!" I say, astonished by the twins' strength.

Kyle looks pissed as he sees me still standing in one piece. He cracks his knuckles once more and lunges at me but I do a backflip, kicking him harshly as I do it. I land on my feet like a cat while Kyle lands on his arse like a chump.

"Don't just sit there, _lei l'idiota stupido_! Get up!" Ellis shouts.

Kyle gets up and shakes his head. "ARRGH!" he shouts and launches into a flurry of punches that moves faster than the eye can see but I dodge all of his attacks. "You… Stop movin'!" he growls, still throwing punches.

I see my opening. I take a left jab counter-punch to Kyle's chest, making him stagger. Then I jump into the air, turning my body and hitting him with a rising uppercut.

"PIGYAAH!" Kyle screams, crashing into a stack of chairs in the corner of the room.

The impact causes the chairs to fall on top of Kyle, knocking him out.

"In the words of LL Cool J: 'Mama said knock you out'," I say, shaking my hand to numb the pain. I turn to Ellis, who's looking very miffed plonking my semi-unconscious sister on a chair and rolls up his sleeves, but the registrar goes to my sister's side. "Right. You have a choice, Molinelli; we can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"The hard way! AARGH–!" Ellis says as he charges for me.

"For fuck's sake!" I mutter.

Ellis lunges at me; however, since I can't be arsed to fight him, I just give him a single powerful punch to his jawline sending him flying, his arms and legs kicking out wildly.

"GYAAH!" he screams as he lands on table and smashes it in half.

I go to the smashed table and see Ellis lying motionless, his glasses broken in half; his left cheek is in various shades of blue and purple, and his arms and legs spreading wide.

"_Lei ha preso il colpo il fotte fuori… il biatch!_" I say to unconscious boy, clenching and unclenching my fingers while using my free hand to stick up my middle finger at him. In English, that roughly translates to: "You got knock the fuck out… biatch!"

I sigh in exhaustion, and I go over to Livi and the registrar. I sit by Livi's side and I hold her hand. There's a siren, the police are here. There's commotion in the lobby.

"Could you inform the police that the kidnappers are in here?" I ask the registrar.

The registrar nods his head and leaves the room while I comfort Livi.

"It's over, Livi. You're gonna be OK now," I say, squeezing her hand.

I hear the door open. I turn to see three black-uniformed officers enter the room and pose in an martial arts stance. The officers are two girls and a boy. I can't help but think that they look familiar. Like I've seen them before.

"This is MI9!" says the boy, but is stunned to see Ellis and Kyle lying unconscious.

"What happened here?" the dark-skinned girl asks, relaxing herself from the stance.

"Never mind that. Could you give us a hand here?" I ask in a loud voice.

The Indian girl runs up to me and Livi, the boy pulls Kyle from the pile of chairs in the corner of the room and the dark-skinned girl leaves the room to get help.

"What happened?" the Indian girl asks me.

I nod my head at Ellis. "That stupid Italian bastard injected my sister with morphine."

"What's your sister's name?"

"It's Livi."

"Livi? Livi, can you hear me?"

"Unhhh…" Livi groans.

The Indian girl checks Livi's breathing, opening her eyes, shining a torch. "Your sister is breathing. Since its morphine, she'll be right as rain in three to six hours, but we'll need to take her to hospital and check her over," she says.

"OK. Thanks." I stare at the girl like she'd grown another head. She looks _so_ familiar.

"Is something wrong?" the girl asks.

I blink at her. "No. No, sorry. It… It's just you look very familiar. You look like someone I know. The same goes with the other two…" I dismissively shake my head. "Sorry. Sorry, I'm being silly. It's been a long day. Take no notice of me. I'm sorry."

"It's OK. The best thing you can do is try to forget about today."

"Easier said than done."

The doors open and the paramedics arrive. They move Livi onto a stretcher and they wheel her away. I follow behind, picking up my jacket, shoes and jewellery on the way out. I walk through the lobby and it's turned into a circus: the guests are talking to the police, the police are talking to April, the registrar and the hotel manager, and two policemen are taking away the football-headed twin that April was keeping an eye on. Outside the hotel, there are people crowding. Some are taking pictures with their phones while others are possibly Tweeting. The paramedics lift Livi into the ambulance. I climb in and sit beside her in the van. The siren starts and the ambulance drives off to the hospital.

**(Frank's POV)**

I hate the hospital. My heart starts pounding as soon as I get off the bus and see the big red building with its tower and chimney and endless odd extensions, like a perverted version of a fairy castle. People always go on about hospital smells but its hospital _colour_ that I can't stand. There are hideous orange plastic chairs in the waiting areas. I shudder at the sight of them and I walk over to the reception area.

"Can I help you?" says the receptionist.

"I'm looking for Livi Brownstone," I say.

"Ah yes. She's upstairs, in the room at the end."

I thank the receptionist and I make for the stairs. When I get on the first floor, I down the corridor and into the ward where three policemen are standing in front of three curtained cubicles. Probably the Baxter brothers and Ellis Molinelli who ordered them to kidnap Jenny and Livi. I proceed down the ward, walking past patients who look pale and are lying listlessly on their pillows or patients who are sitting upright on their beds and having meals or talking to their loved-ones until I reach the cubicle at the end.

I approach Livi's bed. She's lying on her back, fast asleep like a baby. She looks so peaceful.

"Frank?"

I look round startled. It's Jenny.

"Hi," I say. "I… I just came to see how you and Livi are."

"Oh, I'm fine. So is Livi. They're gonna keep her here overnight, so she'll be out of here tomorrow," says Jenny. "D'you wanna have a seat?"

I nod and take a seat by Livi's bed while Jenny sits on Livi's bed, taking her hand and running a thumb over Livi's knuckles.

"So… where's Mrs King?" I ask.

Her lips curl up in a smile. "Probably scaring every doctor and nurse in this hospital demanding to know why no-one is treating Livi," says Jenny.

I chuckle but at the same time I fidget in my chair. I feel very uncomfortable in my surroundings. I catch Jenny watching me.

"Are you OK?" she asks.

"Yeah. I'm fine, it's just…" I sigh. "I hate hospitals. They give me the creeps."

"We could go somewhere else to talk…"

"No, no, it's OK. I'm fine, really."

There's a little silence. I really don't know what to say in situations like this.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" I ask before I can stop myself. I slap my forehead. "D'oh! That was a stupid question. Of course you don't want to talk about it. You and Livi want to forget that today never happened…"

"Frank, Frank, it's OK," says Jenny, taking a seat next to me. There's a tiny pause. "It was pretty scary, though. And all because he got rejected."

Jenny spends the next hour telling me everything that happened in the Rembrandt Hotel. From Ellis Molinelli's story, to when he injected morphine into Livi, to when the Baxter brothers locked Jenny in the bathroom along with one of the employees of the hotel, to her quick-thinking escape plan to stopping the wedding and defeating Ellis and the Baxter brothers.

"So what is gonna happen to Ellis and the marriage?" I ask.

"Well, since Ellis kidnapped, drugged and forced Livi into marrying him, the marriage is void so it never happened. As for Ellis, the MI9 officer told me that he'll probably be deported back to Italy where he'll face trial there," says Jenny. She puts her hand on her cheek and sighs. "God. To think that a simple school Christmas party results into someone being put into hospital. And there was no alcohol involved."

"The most important thing is that Livi is gonna be OK thanks to you. She's lucky to have you as a sister."

Jenny takes hold of my hand. "Thanks, Frank. I really appreciate that." She speaks softly, looking into my eyes.

I look back at her, and then wished I hadn't. It's like looking into a mirror. Her eyes are cloudy with lust. Every nerve in my body is screaming at me to give in to her unspoken invitation.

Jenny's hand reaches out and caresses my face. "You're really something," she says quietly.

My head moves closer to hers so our faces are only inches apart. Just when I'm about to make my move, I suddenly hear someone squeak in a little mouse voice.

"Hello?"

Damn.

I pull back and turn to see Livi awake. She starts to sit up.

"Livi! You're awake!" Jenny cries. She is by Livi's side now. She takes Livi's hand and squeezes it, staring at Livi as if she was a ghost coming back to the living.

"W-where am I?" Livi asks, looking around.

"You're in hospital, Liv," Jenny tells her, looking greatly relieved. "How _are_ you?"

"I'm not sure. I feel weird, like I can't feel anything properly yet. Where's Ellis? What's happened to him?"

Jenny wrinkles her nose but she answers, "Ellis is in hospital – in police custody. He can't hurt you anymore. Also, the marriage is void, so it never happened."

Livi sighs in relief. She turns her head to me. "Oh, hi, Frank."

"All right, Livi?" I say, trying not to sound disappointed that she interrupted me and Jenny's almost-romantic kiss.

Livi stares at me, and then looks at Jenny.

"I didn't interrupt anything, did I…?" she asks.

Jenny and I stare at Livi dumbstruck, our faces growing bright crimson. We don't know what to say, what to do.

"O… M… G!" Livi says giddily, clutching the sheets at her chin, trying in vain not to scream. "I knew it; I knew it, I _so_ knew it! You two s-o-o-o-o-o fancy each other like crazy."

Before Jenny and I can protest, Mrs King arrives at the foot of Livi's bed.

"Livi! Oh, thank goodness you're all right," says Mrs King.

"Hi, Aunt 'Mione," says Livi, a smile locks on her lips and her brown eyes sparkle.

"I'm glad to see that you're back to your optimistic self." Mrs King sees me. "Oh. Hello, Frank."

I nod. "Mrs King." It's bad enough that I feel uncomfortable about being in a hospital and having Livi tease me about my feelings for Jenny, but now I feel even more uncomfortable with Mrs King here. I stand up and stretch. "Well, it looks like I better be off now."

My eyes sweep over to Jenny's approvingly as I smile.

"See you in the New Year, Jen," I say.

Jenny gazes back into my eyes. "You too."

It takes all of my willpower to walk out of the ward and down the corridor. I get to the stairs when someone calls my name.

"Frank!"

I turn to see Jenny jog-shuffling in her hospital slippers towards me.

"Jenny. Is something wrong?" I say.

"No. No, everything's cool. It's just… well…" Jenny shifts from one foot to the other, her eyes searching the carpet below.

"Jen?" I gaze at her with concern.

Then it happens.

Jenny reaches her face to mine and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

I stand speechless as she pulls back and looks at me with those eyes again. I feel like I'm about to pop.

"Merry Christmas, Frank," she says, colour rising to her cheeks.

I blush, trying to swallow with a throat suddenly dry of saliva. "M-m-m…" I clear my throat. "Merry Christmas, Jenny."

She smiles, turns and heads down the corridor. I can't resist staring at her hips as they sashay. Jenny doesn't turn around, but something tells her that my eyes are on her the whole way.

I touch my cheek where Jenny kissed me. I can't take it in. I can't believe this happened. It's like a dream come true. I don't breathe until I get outside the hospital.

I grin triumphantly and march to the bus stop. I feel like singing and dancing and punching the air. It may not be a kiss on the lips that I wanted but I'm satisfied. I think Jenny and I may be halfway there into becoming a couple.


	12. The Nigel Forrester Kidnap Caper

**(Frank's POV)**

"This better be good, Frank," I hear Rose say.

I turn from the computer monitors and see her, Oscar and Carrie enter HQ.

"Yeah. Why did you call us in so early?" Oscar asks, yawning.

"Team, you've being given a special assignment," I tell them. "You'll be working as bodyguards to a member of the Royal Family."

"No way!" Carrie squeals. "Who is it? I bet its Kate and Wills. Or is it Prince Harry?"

"Maybe its Charles and Camilla," says Oscar.

"Or maybe it's the Queen!" says Rose.

"Actually, it's none of the above. You've been enlisted to keep an eye on… Nigel Forrester!" I say.

Rose, Oscar and Carrie stare at me in confused silence.

"I'm sorry, who?" says Carrie.

I turn on the middle computer monitor, showing a photo of the eighteen-year-old brown-haired, blue-eyed Royal. "Nigel Forrester is the 9th Duke of Lessex and a distant cousin to Princes William and Harry. He is the son of Captain Henry Forrester of the Royal Navy, the 8th Duke of Lessex and Lady Imogen Waverly. Ten days ago, Captain Forrester and Lady Waverly received an anonymous letter." I hold up the letter and pass it over to young spies.

"'I demand the sum of £2 million in cash to be paid. If you fail to pay, I will kidnap your son'," Oscar reads.

"A demand letter," says Rose.

"Why is the letter crumpled up?" Carrie asks.

"Thinking that this was someone's idea of a joke, Captain Forrester scrunched up the letter and threw it away. Then five days later, he got another letter," I say, handing the second letter to Carrie.

"'Unless you pay, your son will be kidnapped'," Carrie reads.

"And yesterday they received this." I hand the third letter to Rose.

"'You have not paid. Your son will be taken from you tomorrow, the 30th. It will cost you £3 million to recover him'," Rose reads.

"The 30th is today!" says Oscar.

"So where will the Duke be for us to protect him?" Carrie asks.

"Chief Agent Stark, who is in charge of this mission, has arranged for the family to visit St Hope's so it'll be easier for us to keep an eye on the Duke," I say.

"Great, Chief Agent Stark. That's all we need," Carrie says gloomily, crossing her arms over her chest.

My mobile rings. I pull the mobile out of my pocket and glance at the caller ID. "Good morning, Chief Agent Stark," I answer.

"London, we've got a problem," says Stark, not bothering to say good morning back.

"What is it?"

"I received a call from Captain Forrester this morning. Lady Waverly has been poisoned..."

"Poisoned?!"

"Frank, what's go–?" Rose begins.

"Ssh," I say, flapping my left hand to hush Rose.

"Sorry, I mean _mildly_ poisoned," says Stark. "She was admitted to hospital last night. The doctor has told the Captain that there is no danger, but it would be a day or two before Lady Waverly would be able to get about again."

"So what's gonna happen now?"

"Today will still go ahead as planned. I'm gonna take all due precautions and have some of _my_ best agents come down to St Hope's and guard Captain Forrester and his son."

"Very well, sir. We'll see you in a few hours." I hang up and let out a sigh.

"Frank, what's happened?" Carrie asks.

"Oh, erm, Chief Agent Stark called. He's told me that Lady Waverly has been _mildly_ poisoned," I say.

"Poisoned? What with?" Oscar asks.

"_Mildly_ poisoned. And I don't know what. All I know is that she won't be coming to St Hope's."

"Maybe the poison was for the Duke but Lady Waverly was poisoned instead," says Rose.

"You don't suppose that the would-be kidnapper and poisoner is someone within the Forrester household?" Carrie questions.

"You mean like a butler or a maid?" says Oscar.

"That is something worth checking out," I say.

"I could check out the Forrester household to see if any of the domestic workers left any clues," says Oscar.

"And I could check out the list of former employees of Captain Forrester and Lady Waverly to see if they left on bad terms and want revenge," says Rose.

"But that'll leave me keeping an eye on the duke," says Carrie.

"I've got something that'll help." I pull out a little black box from my pocket and I open it, revealing black heart-shaped stud earrings. "These are Hologram Projecting Earrings. These earrings have remote micro-projectors in them, allowing you to project highly realistic holographic images."

"Ooh. Very delicate and utterly delightful," says Carrie, taking the earrings and putting them on. She tugs the earring and a holographic image of Carrie appears. "Wow!"

"That's amazing!" Rose and Oscar say in unison.

"As well as retaining memory and physical appearance, the hologram has the ability to interact directly with the world, meaning it can touch and feel and communicate," I say.

"Well, let's give it a whirl," says Carrie. She extends her hand. "Hello."

"Hi!" says Holographic Carrie, shaking the real Carrie's hand.

"This is incredible!" says Rose, completely gobsmacked.

Carrie tugs the earring again and Holographic Carrie disappears. "Best gadget ever!"

"Indeed," I say. "Now let's get up there and prepare for the Duke and Captain Forrester."

Rose sits at the computers and starts typing away, and Oscar, Carrie and I leave HQ via elevator.

**(Jenny's POV)**

"I'm sorry, Nigel who?" I ask.

Aunt Hermione sighs as we drive to school. "Nigel Forrester. He's the 9th Duke of Lessex and he's visiting St Hope's today along with his father, Captain Henry Forrester of the Royal Navy as well as the 8th Duke of Lessex and his mother, Lady Imogen Waverly," she says.

"But why? I mean St Hope's is not exactly the best school in the country… or the worst, it's actually second to worst, but still why would the Duke and his family wanna visit a dump like that?"

"Who cares? Anyway, it'll be nice for the school to get some _good_ publicity."

"I can only imagine the person who's responsible for ensuring the Royal visits thought that the Windsor family were far too important to visit a place like St Hope's because they did their research, so they passed it on to someone who's not even a first cousin to Princes Wills and Harry."

"Hey, that's enough out of you."

While we sit quietly for the rest of the journey, I look out the window, at the bleary trees and house wondering out of all the (best) schools, why would this Duke of Lessex guy wanna visit the second worst school in the country. We pull up to the school car park and I follow Aunt Hermione into the brick building.

As Aunt Hermione and I walk down the wide, noisy corridor, I can feel all the kids stare at me with confused curiosity. I can see heads together and fingers pointing as they talk about me. There's a reason for this. Because of our special VIP, Aunt Hermione told me to dress… appropriately for this occasion. So instead of my usual trendy attire, I am now (smartly) dressed in a classic white short-sleeved shirt paired with a sleek black pencil skirt with a black cinch belt and black suede strappy platform peep-toe sandals with leopard print on the heels. The finishing touches include a red leather handbag, a pair of black horn-rimmed cat eye glasses and my hair done in a French twist. I look like a secretary working for some high-powered studio executive or worse… a young Aunt Hermione!

I don't recall getting into Mr. Flatley's office, but there he is, clearing off his oversized desk while he hastily finishes a conversation on the phone.

"Ah, good morning, Mrs King and…" Mr. Flatley pauses as he sees me. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Mr. F –" I whip off my glasses – "it's me, Jenny."

"Oh, Miss Brownstone. I hardly recognised you in those clothes. You look… different."

"She looks elegant. Classy. She looks… like a real teacher," says Aunt Hermione, admiring my ensemble. And for the next six hours, that is exactly what I'll be.

"By the way, Miss Brownstone, this came for you." Mr. Flatley pulls out a small white envelope from his pocket and hands it to me.

As he talks to Aunt Hermione about the Duke's mother not being able to attend the visit, I open the envelope and pull out a small, black electronic cat head-shaped device – the cat-tracer. I stare at the tracer wondering why Zeke would send me this (I mean, who else?).

I place the cat-tracer back into the envelope and place the envelope in the handbag, and I leave the office, weaving through the swarms of pupils heading to their classes to the stationery store room. Once in, I lock the door and fish out my mobile from my handbag, and dial Zeke's number.

"Ah, good morning, Miss Moneypenny," says Zeke, in a Sean Connery does James Bond voice.

"Oh, ha ha!" I say sarcastically. "That was so funny I forgot to laugh. Now how about explaining the cat-tracer you had sent to the school… _Ezekiel_."

I hear Zeke shudder down the phone. "I take it you were told about the 9th Duke of Lessex visiting St Hope's today?"

"Yeah. Aunt 'Mione told me about it on the way. What I don't understand is why this Duke guy would wanna visit a school whose extra-curricular activity is detention. You would have thought the Lawrence Sheriff School in Warwickshire would have been the best choice."

"Maybe that was the tactic used to confuse the kidnapper."

"Kidnapper?"

Zeke sighs. "You're kidding, right? Haven't you been reading the papers these last few days?"

"Unless it's about our feline, crime-fighting friend the Cat, I don't give two monkeys. But pray tell, what have the papers been saying?"

"For several days there have been rumours of someone wanting to kidnap Nigel Forrester. The family have been receiving anonymous letters threatening to take the Duke unless the sum of two million pounds has been paid."

I nod. "I think I get the picture. My task is to place the tracer on the Duke so if the kidnapper succeeds in snatching him, you'll be able to track him."

"Well, yeah. That and to keep an eye on him so if the kidnapper tries to take the Duke, you can fend him off."

"I'm sorry, keep an eye on him? I'm a crime-fighter, Zeke, not a babysitter."

"Did I forget to mention that Chief Agent Stark and his merry men of MI9 agents will be at St Hope's to _try_ and protect the Duke?"

"Really?" I say in a sly voice, raising an eyebrow. "Well, in that case, I would love to play bodyguard to our little Duke of Lessex."

"There's a love."

"Well, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later, Z," I say. I hang and unlock the store room door, exiting the room. But as soon as I close the door behind me, something solid crashes into me and send me landing on my bottom. "Ouch!" I say, rubbing my sore bum.

"Sorry, are you all right?" says a voice.

I look up to see Frank, his hand stretched out to me. I take it feeling my hand enclose in his warm grasp as he hauls me upright.

"Thanks, Frank," I say, dusting the back of my skirt.

He stares at me. "How d'you know my name?"

I stop what I am doing. "Really, Frank?" I push my glasses onto the top of my head. "Don't you recognise me?"

He still stares at me, a little confused for a few moments. He blinks a few times, finally recognising me. "Jen?"

"Hi." I smile.

"You look… oh. Wow. Erm, you look…"

"Like a teacher?"

"Yes. No! I mean, you look… incredible."

I feel my cheeks burning. "Well, don't get to use to this. It's only for the one day. Aunt Hermione told me that I should dress smart for our special guest."

"Oh yeah. That Duke geezer. Yeah, Mr. F has got me laying out the red carpet for him," he says, nodding at the rolled up carpet leaning against the store room door.

The school bell rings.

"I better get to class." I flip my glasses down onto my nose. "Talk to you later, OK?"

Frank gives a nod and I walk past him down the corridor, very aware of my body movements. My pencil skirt figure is sashaying and my breasts bouncing draw the usual stares. I wonder if Frank is watching me walk. Duh! Of course he is. I smile to myself as I strut into the classroom to start the lesson.

**(Frank's POV)**

"Find anything interesting so far?" I ask Rose as I enter HQ.

"No. All former employees of Captain Forrester and Lady Waverly all left with excellent references," she replies.

"Any word from Oscar?"

"No, not yet."

I sit next to Rose by the computers, where she's in deep thought, elbows propped on the table, chin resting on hands, eyes lowered and her face unmoved.

"Care to share with the rest of the class?" I joke.

"I don't get it," says Rose.

"Don't get what?"

Rose lifts her head and looks at me. "Why wait until now to try and kidnap the duke? The kidnapper could have taken the Duke when he was a baby or when he was five-years-old. Instead, the person waits eighteen years."

Rose stands up and stretches, her bones cracking and retreats to the lab to get herself something to eat or drink. I lean back on my chair, thinking about what Rose said. She's right, though. Why wait all these years to want to kidnap the Duke? I look at the computer screen in front of me and see CCTV footage of three cars pulling up in front of the school gates. Two black unmarked cars with a black limousine sandwiched in the middle.

"Rose, they're here," I say, not taking my eyes of the screen.

I hear Rose come up beside me as we watch Chief Agent Stark and the other MI9 agents climb out of the unmarked cars and greet Mr. Flatley and Mrs King, who have being waiting outside by the entrance of the school building. Finally, the driver of the limo hops out and opens the door for the Duke and his father. They climb out of the limo and greet Mr. Flatley and Mrs King.

"You better get up there and keep your eye on the Duke," I say. "I'll stay here and monitor any suspicious activities or individuals."

"OK. Call me if you hear from Oscar," says Rose.

Still not taking my eyes off the screen, I nod in agreement as I hear Rose's footsteps leave HQ.

It's gonna be a long day.

**(Jenny's POV)**

"They're coming, Jen!" says Davina, entering the music room.

"OK everyone, get into positions," I say, sitting at the piano.

The class gather together and form a chorus line by the whiteboard next to the piano.

"All right, everyone, this is just like we practised. Keep calm and focus," I say. "Embrace your inner Glee."

I play the opening notes to the song that everyone in class practised. As the door opens and Mr. Flatley, Aunt Hermione and the guests enter, the class begin to sing.

"When Britain first, at heaven's command,  
Aro-o-o-ose from out the a-a-a-zure main,  
Arose, arose, arose from out the a-azure main,  
This was the charter, the charter of the land,  
And guardian A-a-angels sang this strain:

"Rule Britannia!  
Britannia rule the waves. Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.  
Rule Britannia!  
Britannia rule the waves.  
Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.

"The nations, no-o-o-o-ot so blest as thee,  
Must i-i-i-i-in their turn, to ty-y-yrants fall,  
Must in ,must in, must in their turn, to ty-y-rants fall,  
While thou shalt flourish, shalt flourish great and free,  
The dread and e-e-e-e-nvy of them all.

"Rule Britannia!  
Britannia rule the waves.  
Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.  
Rule Britannia!  
Britannia rule the waves.  
Britons never, never, never shall be slaves."

When they finished, there's applause. I raise my right hand and give the class the thumbs-up sign. They sang it good. Not good, brilliantly, not a word wrong.

"That was excellent, guys. Well done," I say. I stand up and walk over to Mr. Flatley and Aunt Hermione. "Good morning, Mr. Flatley. _Mrs King_." That feels weird calling Aunt Hermione that.

"Good morning, Miss Brownstone," they say in unison.

"Miss Brownstone, let me introduce to you Captain Henry Forrester of the Royal Navy and the 8th Duke of Lessex and his son, Nigel Forrester, the 9th Duke of Lessex," says Aunt Hermione.

Captain Forrester is big with board shoulders, muscular arms, and a wide neck. He has straight black hair with white ends that's swept straight back off his square forehead, and small, round blue eyes. He's dressed in his Navy uniform – a double-breasted, navy blue jacket; matching trousers; white shirt and black tie; peaked cap; and black leather shoes.

His son, Nigel, on the other hand is slender but quite tall. His eyes are very blue, almost turquoise, and his skin is very pale and clear. His hair is chestnut brown and wavy, worn in a quiff. He's wearing a black and white slim-fit woven suit, a white shirt and blue satin tie, and black brogues.

"How do you do?" Captain Forrester extends his right hand.

My fingers close around it. "How do you do?" I say. I shake the Duke's hand. "It's nice to meet you. I hope you enjoyed the song the class sang, Captain Forrester. It seemed appropriate for someone who is in the Navy."

"My son and I enjoyed it very much." He places his hand on the Duke's shoulder. "Didn't we, Nigel?"

As Captain Forrester touches the Duke's shoulder, the Duke jumps – he looks so nervous.

"Oh yes. Very good," the Duke says quickly.

I give a little nod. "Well I'll hope you'll stick around to hear the class singing God Save the Queen."

"Well, I suppose –" Captain Forrester begins.

"Maybe later," Aunt Hermione interrupts. "Right now, there are still parts of the school that the Captain and the Duke have yet to see – like our new equipment for the Science department."

I watch Aunt Hermione escort Captain Forrester and the Duke out of the classroom, followed by Mr. Flatley. I wait until I hear the door close for me to turn to the pupils.

"Great job, guys. Great job," I say. "Now how about we sing some _real_ music?"

The class cheer and we spend the rest of the lesson singing and dancing to PSY's Gangnam Style.

xxoOoxx

"I'm bored bored bor-r-r-r-r-r-ed," I say to myself, as I wander down the corridors.

Break time has finished and I've been wandering the corridors for the last ten minutes, bored out of my skull. Normally on a day like this, after I've finishing teaching for the day, I would do one of the three things: hang out with Frank, go into town to window shop and have lunch or save London from SKUL or other criminals. But since my mission is to protect the Duke of Lessex from being kidnapped, I have to stay at school and I am not finding this fun at all.

"Man, this is boring," I say again.

As I go round the corner of the corridor, I see Chief Agent Stark coming out of a room yelling at three MI9 agents, "How did you manage to lose the Duke? Huh?!"

"Sorry, sir," the agents mumble, their faces red with embarrassment.

"Sorry?!" Stark screams. "You were supposed to protect the Duke! Follow him everywhere he goes! Even if it's the boys' toilets!" He points at the door he came out from.

"W-we thought that he wanted a bit of privacy…" says a dark-haired male agent.

"Well you thought wrong! What am I gonna tell Captain Forrester?"

As much as I enjoy taunting MI9, I can't help but feel sorry for them – especially the ones who have to work with Stark. Who'd wanna take orders from that arrogant smeghead?

"Idiots." Stark scowls and marches off, the agents following behind. Stark nearly bumps into me as he goes. "Had a good look, did you? Why don't you take a picture, it'll last longer!" he says, pushing me out the way. "Nosy little busybody."

"I would take a picture, but you're stupid, ugly face would probably break the lens of the camera," I whisper. I wish I said this out loud but I don't want to get into a shouting match with him. I stick my tongue out at Stark, who's still walking away, and I walk off to see if I can find the Duke before he does.

Nearly forty-five minutes later of searching the school, I find myself in front of a doorway of the one place no-one in the entire school, besides Rose and Aunt Hermione, would want to be in – the library. The only place in the school that the Duke has to be in. I silently slide into the room. Inside, I see that the school library is similar to a public library in that they contain books, DVDs and videotapes, CDs and cassettes, periodicals and other formats all stacked neatly on their own bookshelves in parallel to each other with merely enough space between to allow of the passage for anyone. There's a reference desk by the entrance of the library that has a grey-haired old woman, the librarian maybe, behind the desk (slowly) organising books. She's short, and looks about eighty, and thin like a pencil. She's wearing round glasses with thin gold frames. She has a lean face with pronounced wrinkles in her face and intense dark brown eyes, exaggerated by the eye-glasses. Her hair is in a tight bun and her clothes look dull and old. She's dressed in schoolmarm clothes, which goes well with the image. I take a few steps further into the library. To my right is the computer area, where there's a row of computers standing on tables and to my left is the reading area, where in the far back corner of the reading area… is the Duke.

I make my way over to the Duke, being careful not to make a sound in this calm and tranquil sanctuary that is the library. As I reach the Duke's seat, I pull out the cat-tracer from my bag and carefully place it in the outer pocket of his jacket. I take a step back and look at the book that the Duke has settled down with – J.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_.

"I prefer the film to the book," I say, standing by his chair.

The Duke gasps in surprise and shuts the book up quickly, clasping it in his hands.

"What are you doing here? Are you trying to frighten me?" he hisses.

"Hey, sorry." I hold up my hands in mock defence. I take a seat across the Duke. "So you decided to avoid the MIBs?"

The Duke looks puzzled. "The MIBs?"

"The Morons in Black who've been keeping their beady eyes on you and your dad, mostly you, all morning."

"Oh, MI9. Yeah. I had to get away. All of them just literally breathing all over me. So while those three MI9 agents were waiting for me outside the boys' toilets, I snuck out of the window. I came back into the school and wandered through the corridors, being careful not to run into any agents, and here I am!"

"Isn't it a bit dangerous for you to go wandering around all by yourself considering that there's someone who wants to kidnap you?"

He hesitates and nods. "I suppose. But you're here with me, so I'm not alone."

"Well that's true. Just as long as you don't sneak away from me."

"You got it, Miss Brownstone."

"It's Jenny. Jenny or Jen, not Miss Brownstone."

"OK… Jen. And you can call me Nigel."

"Cool… Nigel."

I hear the door to the library open. I look up and see what must be one of Stark's agents coming up to me and Nigel. He's quite good-looking with dark eyes and long, floppy hair.

"There you are, Your Royal Higness. We've been looking everywhere for you," he says.

"Yeah, sorry about that," says Nigel.

"No matter. What's important is that you're safe. Anyway, we have to go. Your father is waiting in the foyer."

"OK." Nigel places the book on the small, round table by his chair and stands up.

"No, wait, I'm coming to," I say, standing up.

"Oh, you don't have to come…" says Nigel.

"No, I want to. I want to see the look on those Suits' faces when _I_ explain to your dad that you weren't kidnapped." I turn to the floppy-haired agent. "No offence."

"Oh… well… OK," Nigel says reluctantly.

As I lead Nigel and the MI9 agent out of the library and to the foyer, I wonder why Nigel looked uncomfortable when I insisted that I wanted to come with him. What is he so nervous about?

When we near the foyer, I fling open the entrance doors and enter the foyer.

"Captain Forrester, I present to you your son – safe and sound!" I exclaim as I bow my head.

Silence.

I lift my head and see that there is no-one in the foyer.

"What the hell is going on?" I say. I turn to Nigel and see that the floppy-haired agent isn't standing with him. "Nigel, what's going on?"

"I'm sorry, Jen," he says.

I stare at Nigel, confused. "What have you got to be sorry abo–?"

A pair of hands grabs me. I turn and see it's the floppy-haired agent… or at least I thought he was an agent. I try to wriggle free, but he's too strong. I feel him put a cloth over my mouth and I immediately find myself in a world of darkness…

xxoOoxx

"Jenny! Jen, wake up!"

I groan. I can smell ammonia filling my nostrils.

I open my eyes. I can see Frank pulling away a small blue bottle from my nose while looking down at me with relief.

"Welcome back," he says.

"W-what happened?" I ask as I start to sit up.

"I was about to go for an early lunch when I found you lying unconscious. It's a good thing I always carry smelling salts with me."

I start to get up, but my legs feel shaky. Frank helps to keep me steady, allowing me to lean on his arm. "I'm OK. Really," I insist. I look around the foyer and find that it's only me and Frank in the room. "Where's the Duke?"

"The Duke?" Frank asks.

"He was here when I… oh, no." It dawns to me. "Frank, they've taken him. They've taken the Duke!"


	13. The Mystery Kidnapper Revealed

**(Frank's POV)**

I've been watching the Duke and Captain Forrester via CCTV for over an hour. So far, no-one suspicious has entered the school and I still haven't heard from Oscar…

Suddenly, my stomach rumbles. I groan as I pat my tummy gently. I'm so hungry. I didn't have any breakfast this morning.

This is why my stomach continues to rumble.

And why I can't fully concentrate on the four-way split screen on the computer monitor. Each screen shows different parts of the school – no activity in the foyer, the second screen shows Mrs King and Mr. Flatley showing Captain Forrester the gym. But where's the Duke? I look at the third screen and see Chief Agent Stark coming out of the boys' toilets and yelling at three MI9 agents. Figures. They thought the Duke would do his business and come out, instead he does his business and sneaks out the window. I use the fourth screen to see if I can find the Duke. Nothing. I pull out my phone and text Carrie to use the Hologram Projecting Earrings to project holographic versions of her, Rose and Oscar to search the school for the Duke. After I send the text, I glance at the monitor and spot Jenny. I bit my lower lip as I watch her roam the corridors.

"Gorgeous," I sigh. Leaning forward, I perch my chin upon my left chin as my eyes focus on this beautiful specimen of a woman.

I hardly recognised her when I bumped into her this morning. She's like a walking sexual fantasy come true. She's dressed as a hot teacher – a crisp white shirt that shows me a good enough amount of cleavage. I long to run my tongue on her smooth skin, between her full breasts. A snugly black pencil skirt that accentuates her figure and black five-inch heels that give her legs an ultra-sexy lilt when she walks. And on top of that, she's wearing glasses, which make her look extra intellectual. Her hair is pulled into an up-swept hairstyle that exposes her neck to me. I long to rake my tongue along the slope of it, to taste her sweet skin. My mouth waters just thinking about it. I wanted to say that she looked absolutely stunning, but I got nervous. However, I loved how she strutted off, though. I watched wordlessly as she sashayed away from me.

My phone buzzes. Probably Carrie saying that one of the holograms has found the Duke but I'm not interested in that. I'm more interested in the beautiful woman who's wiggling and waggling her hips as she walks the corridors like a model who walks down a catwalk. I take the pleasure in watching and observing her.

I gulp as I watch Jenny climb up a flight of stairs. I can't resist staring at her abundant behind. I really want to reach out and run my hands over the roundness of her tush.

My eyes never leave the monitor as Jenny approaches the door to the library. The way her clothes fit her curvaceous frame and the confidence in her walk makes me ache for her. After she enters the library, I shake my head, slowly bringing myself back to reality. I fish out my phone from my trouser pocket and I flip it open. I read the text that Carrie sent to me… nearly forty-five minutes ago.

_Holographic Rose found the Duke in the library._

I immediately start typing to get CCTV coverage of the Duke (but mainly Jenny) inside the library. As soon as the camera in the library catches sight of the Duke and Jenny in the reading area, I resume to staring at Jenny while she and the Duke talk. I watch as she sits on a chair opposite the Duke with her legs crossed, showing her firm silky thigh. I do my best to suppress the arousal I'm experiencing just gazing at the amount of flesh she's displaying. Oh, how I wish those beautiful long long legs were wrapped around my waist, while her hot pouty lips kiss me as tenderly as she dares.

My eyes fly open (even though I don't remember closing them) and I realise that Jenny and the Duke are not in the library. I look at the first screen of the four-way split screen and see the two entering the foyer. As Jenny enters the foyer, for reasons unknown to her, she bows her head to the empty room. She lifts her head and turns to the Duke, looking confused. As she faces the Duke, a floppy-haired man grabs Jenny.

"Jen!" I leap to my feet as I watch the floppy-haired man places a piece of cloth over her mouth, immediately knocking her out – chloroform! I rush to the lab and desperately search the drawers until I find what I am looking for – a small blue bottle labelled SMELLING SALTS. I grab the bottle and I leave HQ.

I run down the corridor to the foyer where Jenny is lying unconscious on the floor. I rush to her side and I fling myself down next to her. I lift Jenny's head. I bring out the smelling salts from my pocket, remove the lid and I draw the bottle to her nose.

"Jenny! Jen, wake up!" I say.

She gives out a little groan.

As she opens her eyes, I pull the smelling salts away from her nose and I look down at her with relief.

"Welcome back," I say.

"W-what happened?" Jenny asks as she starts to sit up.

"I was about to go for an early lunch when I found you lying unconscious," I lie. "It's a good thing I always carry smelling salts with me."

Jenny tries to get up but I can see that she's a little bit shaky, so I help keep her steady by letting her lean on my arm as she stands up.

"I'm OK. Really," she says. Then she asks, "Where's the Duke?"

"The Duke?" I say.

"He was here when I… oh, no. Frank, they've taken him. They've taken the Duke!"

xxoOoxx

"This is a complete disaster!" Stark exclaims. "I mean how did the kidnapper know where the Duke was?"

While Stark continues to pace up and down HQ worrying about _his_ career, I look back at the CCTV footage of the floppy-haired man who has not only kidnapped the Duke, but he also knocked Jenny out with chloroform. After he lays her on the floor, he turns to the Duke, giving me a clear view of the man's face. I pause the video and zoom in on the man's face. I type to find out who he is. After a minute, a mug shot shows up on the screen.

"His name is James Sowton," I say. "He doesn't seem to have any criminal record of any cautions or convictions."

"Well, when I get my hands on that little punk, I'm gonna write up a criminal record so big that no-one on Earth would hire him!" says Stark, taking a sit next to me. "How did he even know the Duke was here? No-one outside MI9, other than Captain Forrester and Lady Waverly knew about the Duke coming here. Not even… _her_."

"What, you mean the Cat?"

"Yeah. That credit-grabbing nuisance. You would've thought she had better things to do than try and solve _our_ cases."

I glance at Stark. "Well, how about… on this one occasion… the Cat can… help us out?"

Stark glares at me. "I would rather work for the Grandmaster than ask the Cat for help."

_SWOOSH!_

Stark and I turn our swivel chairs around, and see Rose and Carrie entering HQ.

"Rose and I did wide scale search of the school to see if the kidnapper left any clues." Carrie holds up a Blackberry and a note. "All we found is the Duke's Blackberry and a note demanding the payment of £3 million to be dropped off at the east side entrance of St Pancras railway station."

"How is Jenny?" Rose asks me.

"She's fine. A bit shaky, though," I say. "She's resting in Mrs King's office."

"Still no word from Oscar?"

Before I can answer, the elevator doors parted and Oscar enters HQ.

"Oscar, you're back!" I say, standing up. "Why didn't you call?"

"Sorry, Frank," says Oscar. "My communicator was running low. So, what's happened here?"

"Well, the Duke has been kidnapped –" Carrie starts.

"Never mind that!" Stark rudely intervenes as he stands up. "What did you find out at the Forrester's?"

"Well, you're not gonna believe this, but I know who's been sending those letters to Captain Forrester and Lady Waverly," says Oscar.

"Who?" I ask.

"It's…" says Oscar. A tiny pause. "It's the Duke."

We stare at him. "The _Duke_?"

There's something none of us saw coming.

"Oscar, are you sure? This is Nigel Forrester, the 9th Duke of Lessex you're talking about," says Rose, sounding suspicious.

"Rose, I'm one hundred percent certain it's the Duke," says Oscar. "After I searched the servants' quarters of the Forrester household, I decided to search the Duke's bedroom, where I found this in his drawer." Oscar pulls out a small plastic bag that contains several gilled mushrooms.

"What are those?" Carrie asks.

"_Hebeloma crustuliniforme_," says Rose, taking the bag from Oscar.

"What?"

"_Hebeloma crustuliniforme_, commonly known as poison pie or fairy cakes, is a gilled mushroom of the genus _Hebeloma_ that can be found in Europe and North America. They are moderately poisonous, the symptoms being those of a severe gastrointestinal nature, namely vomiting, diarrhoea and colicky abdominal pain several hours after consumption."

"So, the Duke poisoned his mother with those mushrooms?" I ask.

"That's not all." Oscar pulls out a magazine from his trouser pocket. He opens it and shows us a page from the magazine with several letters cut out. "He also wrote the letters."

"So, what you're trying to tell us, Agent Cole, is that not only did Nigel Forrester, the 9th Duke of Lessex made and sent those demand letters to his own _parents_, but he also poisoned – _mildly_ poisoned – his own _mother_?" says Stark.

Oscar nods his head. "Yeah."

"But why?" says Carrie.

"When we find the Duke, we'll know why," I say.

"Don't you mean _if_, Frank?" Stark turns to me. "We don't even know where he is."

Suddenly, the computer starts beeping. I turn to it to see a giant red dot blinking on the screen.

"That can't be right," I say as I sit at the computers and I start typing to find out what's happening. After a few seconds, a picture of the Duke shows up on the screen. "No way."

"What is it, Frank?" Oscar asks.

I stand up and turn to the others. "We've got a location of the Duke. Apparently, he's in Sydenham Hill Wood in Southwark."

"How did we get a location? I've got his phone," says Carrie, who is just as confused as I am.

"Who cares how we got a location? We now know where he is," says Stark. "So let's get going."

"I'll stay behind and monitor any movement the Duke makes," I say.

Nodding in agreement, Rose, Oscar, Carrie and Stark enter the elevator and leave HQ, while I settle at the computers and watch the monitor of the Duke's position.

**(Jenny's POV)**

I still feel hazy as I walk along the corridor to come out of the school but the cold air revives me. I wiggle across the playground to the school gates. I pull out my mobile and speed dial Zeke.

Zeke answers with concern. "Jen, are you all right?! I saw what happened on CCTV!"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Zeke," I say. "But as soon as I get my hands on that floppy-haired bastard, I'm gonna punch his lights out! Anyway, did you get a location on the Duke?"

"Yeah. He, along with the 'floppy-haired bastard' that the Duke left with is at Sydenham Hill Wood in Southwark. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Of course I do. Don't worry, Zeke, I've got this. Now, the question is how am I gonna get there?"

There's a loud roar. I turn to the street, and there he is – Kenzie Simms, the Knight in Shining Leather. He stops his motorcycle in front of me and as he turns off the engine, he flashes me his trademark smile that reveal his two deep dimples on his narrow cheeks.

"Hey!" I call, waving.

"Your transportation for the day," says Zeke. "He also has your gadgets, too. All the best."

"Thanks, Z." I hang up and bring out my wristwatch communicator from my pocket while putting my phone away. Flipping the communicator, I press the blue button and change into my catsuit. "Let's rock and roll." Kenzie takes off his helmet and hands it to me. "What about you?"

"You need it more than I do," says Kenzie, winking at me.

I feel my cheeks beginning to burn as I take the helmet. I quickly put it on and climb onto the motorcycle.

"Where to, milady?" Kenzie asks.

"Sydenham Hill Wood, Southwark," I say.

Kenzie nods his head and turns his motorcycle on. I wrap my arms tightly around Kenzie's waist as we take off to Sydenham Hill Wood.

xxoOoxx

It's nearly an hour later when Kenzie pulls up to a quiet corner of a train station called Sydenham Hill railway station, whose footbridge leads into Sydenham Hill Wood. "Here we are," he says, turning off the engine.

"Thanks, Kenzie," I say, climbing off the motorcycle and taking the helmet off.

"Now, gadgets." He pulls out three items from the inside of his leather jacket. He holds up a silver belt with a black cat head-shape buckle. "First, we have the Net Throwing Extendable Belt Buckle. This gadget is a belt buckle that can shoot out a net to capture a target. It's effective at twenty yards. Next" – he holds up a pair of black domino-shaped goggles – "Thermal Vision Cat-Goggles – infrared lenses to see thermal output in low light or non-lit situations. Reason for the goggles? Because of this –" Kenzie holds up a can of hairspray, "the Smoke Screen Hairspray. It can create a thick cloud of smoke."

"Excellent," I say, handing the helmet over to Kenzie and taking the three gadgets. "See you in a few, yeah?" I flip open the wristwatch communicator. "Activate cloaking device."

After my body becomes invisible, I head for the entrance across the footbridge. I follow the Green Chain waymarker posts ahead and I turn left, going down the steps. I carry on straight ahead along an old railway track, passing an old railway tunnel. I go up some steps and head left until I reach the Sydenham Hill Wood information panel. After I turn left at the information panel, I follow a path and I go down the steps. I carry on until I reach a ruined monastery in the midst of the woods that's surrounded by brambles and ivy.

But my admiration of the folly is short-lived because nearby, by some rockery, is the Duke, the floppy-haired man and a third person. A blond-haired, blue-eyed cutie with a full pout, who looks about the same age as the Duke but about a foot taller. He's sporting a black leather jacket over a light grey tee, dark denim jeans and black Converse shoes.

"It won't be long now," says the blond boy. "As soon as Captain Forrester pays up, we can put the second part of our plan into action!"

"That's what you think!" I whisper as I swap my regular domino mask with the Thermal Vision Cat-Goggles and placing the Net Throwing Extendable Belt Buckle onto the buckle of my utility belt. Shaking the Smoke Screen Hairspray, I remove the lid and I spray. A thick cloud of white smoke dispenses itself from the nozzle of the Hairspray and engulfs itself around the three boys.

"What the hell?!" the blond boy splutters.

"What's going on?!" the Duke coughs.

Turning on the Thermal Vision Cat-Goggles, I enter the cloud of smoke. Through the thermogram of the Cat-Goggles are the three boys staggering around the rockery like blind men in an orgy. The plan is simple: take out Blondie and his assistant, Hippy Boy, save the Duke and make MI9 foolish… again. In the words of John 'Hannibal' Smith from the A-Team movie: 'I love it when a plan comes together'.

Nodding my head, I use my grace and agility to jump backwards into a tree and I quickly push myself off of it, reaching higher distances from the floor, giving her a certain aerial advantage over the kidnappers. In conjunction with the aerial superiority with the ability that I have, I execute this attack by jumping into the air with a forward flip, coming down and landing on top of the floppy-haired boy with my falling heel.

"Uuuh…" he mumbles.

"That's for knocking me out with chloroform, you douche," I say, staring down at the floppy-haired boy's twitchy and semi-unconscious body.

"Jamie? Jamie, are you OK?" the blond boy calls.

"And you're next, Blondie!" I say, charging towards the blond boy. When I get close to him, my hand balls into a fist and I deliver a powerful punch to the blond boy's mid-section.

"GL… GLORBB…!" he gaggles.

I follow up by delivering a fierce uppercut to his chin, which sends him flying.

"GYAAW!" he screams as he lands in some bushes by the folly.

The blond boy shakes his head as he staggers to his feet, but I press a small button on top of the Net Throwing Belt Buckle. The Buckle opens and a net shoots out of it, capturing the blond boy, causing him to fall back into the bushes.

"And that's the end of that," I say, firmly placing my hands on my hips.

A gentle breeze comes in and starts to blow the white smoke away. I swap the Cat-Goggles for the domino mask and I deactivate the cloaking device. I walk out of the smoke to tie the blond boy with the floppy-haired boy, when I immediately stop in my tracks. I can't believe what I am seeing – the Duke is freeing the blond boy from the net!

"Curtis, are you OK?" the Duke asks the blond boy, tossing the net aside and pulling the boy to his feet.

"I-I think so," says Curtis. "I took a helluva beating from… I don't know who. But I'm aching all over."

"Don't worry; I've got something for that."

Then the unthinkable happens.

The Duke pulls Curtis' face to his…

and then…

and then…

they _kiss!?_

"What – the – _fuck?!_" I exclaim, not believing what my eyes are seeing.

The Duke and Curtis pull away from each other and stare at me, their faces going bright red with embarrassment.

"The Cat!" says the Duke. "What are you doing here?!"

"Never you bloody mind that!" I shout. "I want to know what the hell is going on here! You can't have developed Stockholm syndrome already. You were only kidnapped for two hours! Now how about explaining to me why you're kissing your captor?!"

The Duke and Curtis sit in an uncomfortable silence, exchanging embarrassed glances.

"Tell me why!" I demand.

"OK, OK!" says Curtis, holding his hands up. He looks at the Duke, who nods his head at him and he looks at me. "Nigel… Nigel and I planned the 'kidnapping'," – Curtis makes two quote marks with his fingers.

"Wha-a-at?!" I am completely dumbfounded. I cover my face with my hand. "Wa-a-ait, wait-wait-wait. Let me just get this straight: you and the Duke, the two of you, the 9th Duke of Lessex and the… whatever, the two of you planned this 'kidnapping'?"

The boys look down at the ground, going all pink, nodding their heads.

"OK…" I say slowly. I sigh as I cross my arms over my chest. "My next question is simply why? Why would you plan a 'kidnapping' that will not only waste _my_ time, but also MI9's time? Huh? Go on, tell me. Enlighten me."

The Duke takes a deep breath and sighs. "It's hard to explain… Curtis and I… are a couple."

"A-A couple?" I stare at the Duke.

I've gone from dumbfounded to bewilderment.

"Yeah," says the Duke. "We met two years ago in September in Harrow School. Curtis transferred from Winchester College and I was picked to show him around. Curtis and I made instant chemistry and soon developed a friendship. Over the months, we continue to grow closer and then in February, on Valentine's Day… I admitted my feelings to Curtis."

"Awww," I say, placing my hands on my chest. "That's so sweet. And did you confess your feelings back, Curtis?"

"Actually, no," he says. "After Nige confessed, I told him that I liked him too… but only as a friend. We remained friends until the last day of term in July when I realized my feelings for Nige. It was then that we shared our first kiss and after we came back from the holidays, we started dating, and we have been ever since."

"Sooo what seems to be the problem?" I ask.

"It's… It's my dad," says the Duke. "He doesn't know that I'm gay… or that I have a boyfriend."

"Ah. So he's one of those really fierce old-fashioned kinds of _father_ dad?"

"Yep. He's _that_ old-fashioned that when I leave Harrow this year, he wants me to marry a daughter of an MP."

"WHAT!? Is he… Is he serious?!"

"Yep. Once his mind is set on something, he's not gonna let go."

"When Nigel told me what happened, he instantly broke down in tears saying how he didn't want to marry someone of his dad's choosing," says Curtis.

"That's when you two decided to plan a kidnapping?" I ask.

The boys nod their heads.

"I sent anonymous letters to my parents demanding the sum of £2 million or £3 million," says the Duke.

"And I obtained some mushrooms for Nigel to incapacitate his mum, so everyone would think that the 'kidnapper' poisoned the wrong person," says Curtis.

"And where did you get the mushrooms from?" I ask.

"Uhh…"

I look over my shoulder to see the floppy-haired boy staggering to his feet.

"Oh… Christ did that hurt!" he says.

I turn to the Duke and Curtis, and I jerk my head towards the floppy-haired boy. To which the boys nod their heads in response.

"Jamie acquired the mushrooms from some friends of his in Camden," says Curtis.

"So he knows about you two?" I ask.

"Yes," Curtis replies. "And when I told him about the arranged marriage and our kidnapping plan, Jamie said that he wanted to help… as well as get a ten percent cut on the money."

"Speaking of money, what would have happened in Captain Forrester paid up? Before I attacked, I heard that when the Captain pays, the second part of the plan would come into action. So, what was the second part of the plan?"

"Well… after my father pays the ransom and drops the money at St Pancras railway station, Jamie will collect the money and will leave a note mapping my whereabouts. After my father and I are reunited, we'll carry on as normal until the day of my arranged marriage, when as I get ready, I'll feign a headache and when my servants get me some paracetamol, that's when I'll make my getaway. I'll meet Curtis here in Sydenham Hill Wood and together we'll escape to Paris by ferry," the Duke explains.

I raise my eyebrows at how well thought-out he planned this. Or so he thought…

"Wow…" I start, "that seems like quite a plan. No flaw in it whatsoever. I mean, it's not like Captain Forrester will place a tracker in the briefcase with the money so he can follow Jamie to the place where you're hiding. Or, or since he's a Royal as well as captain of the Royal Navy, he's not gonna call on his _very_ powerful friends in the Secret Service to track the both of you down."

"Ah," says the Duke. "Maybe we should have looked into that."

"Come on, guys. The only way everyone can live happily ever after is if you confess to your dad. The kidnapping, the fact that you're gay – everything."

"But –"

"Look, I know your parents, particularly your dad, will be furiously pissed off about this, but I know that deep down inside they love you and, in time, they'll accept you."

"Hmmmm…" the Duke hums worryingly.

"Don't worry, Nige," says Curtis, taking the Duke's hand. "I'll be there to support you."

"Same goes for me," says Jamie, coming up beside me.

The Duke looks at Jamie, then me and finally Curtis, into his eyes, his persuasive and very irresistible smile. "Well… all right."

"Great!" I say, clapping my hands together.

My communicator beeps. I flip it open and I read the text.

_MI9 coming your way – K_

"Well, looks like I'm done here," I say, closing the communicator. I go up to the Duke and pull him into a hug (and discreetly taking the cat-tracer from his jacket pocket!). "Good luck with your dad, Your Royal Highness." I turn to Curtis. "Sorry for the arse-whooping." I turn to Jamie. "Ditto about... you know."

"S'alright," says Jamie.

"No worries," says Curtis.

I hear the sound of heavy footsteps and rustled bushes getting nearer and nearer.

"Gotta go. See you all later, guys!" I hurry away from the folly, taking a path to the right of the folly. I carry on down the path and I turn right when I reach a clearing of trees. I follow the steps back down to the footbridge. I cross the footbridge to the entrance, where Kenzie is waiting for me, his motorcycle roaring. I pile onto his motorcycle and we take off.

As we ride back to St Hope's, I hear an _almighty_ yell.

"_ARGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!_"

The person's roar is so loud that the birds fly into the air in terror and people stop dead in their tracks all over the street and probably in the next town, wincing and putting their hands over their ears.

"DAMN YOU, CA-A-A-A-AT!"

I smile to myself. I love you too, Starky.

"What the hell is that?!" Kenzie yells over the roar of his motorcycle.

"That, Kenzie, is my good friend Chief Agent Horatio Stark of MI9 throwing the world's biggest tantrum!" I yell back.

God, I love pissing off MI9, particularly Stark.

**(Frank's POV)**

I decided that I'll check up on Jenny to see how she is doing… as I am mopping up sick all over the canteen at Mrs King's request. While cleaning up, my mobile beeps. I pull out my phone and I read the text from Carrie.

_We've got the Duke. We'll be back soon._

Smiling to myself and nodding my head, I pocket my phone and I go back to cleaning the sick on the floor… and the wall… and, oddly, the ceiling.

After an hour of cleaning up sick, I wander down the corridor to Mrs King's office to see Jenny. I bring some Cadbury's Dairy Milk because they're her favourite. As I round the corner, I see Chief Agent Stark coming down the corridor and he is in a very _foul_ mood. I take a step to the side and I avoid looking Stark in the eye. Though, from the corner of my eye, I can see that the Duke is with Stark. Along with the floppy-haired boy (James Sowton) who chloroformed Jenny and a third person with blond hair. After the four go past me, I let out a sigh. I look in the opposite direction of which Stark and the three boys came and see Rose, Oscar and Carrie at the end of the corridor, by the staircase. I go over to them to find out what happened.

"Why does Stark look like he's ready to kill someone?" I ask them.

"Only one person could make Stark that extremely angry," says Oscar.

"The Cat?"

"You won the prize," Rose replies dryly. "She must have placed a tracker on the Duke. That's why it was easier for us to locate him."

"Y'know, I wouldn't normally agree with what Stark says, but the Cat can be a blank blank blankety blank, the blanking blanker," says Carrie.

I raise my eyebrows at Carrie.

"Stark said some pretty _amazing_ words about the Cat," she says.

"So, other than the Cat taking all the credit… _again_, what happened?" I ask.

"Well, on the car ride back, the Duke explained that the reason he planned the kidnapping was because he wanted to be with his boyfriend…" says Oscar.

"Hold up, wait a minute…" I cut in. "His _boyfriend?_ You mean…?"

"Yeah. The Duke… is gay," Rose states. "He's being seeing a boy called Curtis Hawes for over two years."

"You just saw him. He's the blond one," says Carrie.

"Ah. I was wondering who that person was," I say. "Anyway, carry on, Oscar."

"The Duke and Curtis is just one of the reasons why they planned the kidnapping. The other reason is because of Captain Forrester, the Duke's dad. Apparently, he wants the Duke to marry a daughter of an MP."

"An arranged marriage? In this day and age? Well, now I completely understand why the Duke did this. But what about the floppy-haired boy that was with the Duke and Curtis? James Sowton?"

"You mean Jamie? He's friends with Curtis. He provided the Duke with those mushrooms to temporary disable Lady Imogen," says Carrie.

"I see. So what happens now?"

"Well, Stark is taking the Duke, Curtis and Jamie to Mrs King's office where Captain Forrester is, where the Duke will confess to what he did and why," says Oscar.

"Mrs King's office? Isn't that where Jenny is resting?" I ask.

Before anyone can answer, a familiar voice causes me to jump.

"Is this a private party or can anyone come?"

Even before I see her, my heart flutters to my throat. A second later Jenny Brownstone comes up beside me.

"Hi. Why aren't you three in class?" she asks Rose, Oscar and Carrie.

"Um, uh, I…" the three try to think of something to say.

"They were at the library doing research for a History project," I reply for them.

"With no notes?" Jenny's eyes fall on the young spies' empty hands and she adds, "And no books?"

"Uh… well umm…" I try to think of something to say but I see a smile flicker around Jenny's mouth.

"You should count yourselves lucky that I'm such a laid-back, tolerant teacher," says Jenny. "Now, go on, back to your classes."

Rose, Oscar and Carrie walk past Jenny and me and hurry down the corridor to their classes.

"It's good to see you up and about," I say. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Thanks for asking," says Jenny.

"I, er, I got you some chocolate." I hand her the Dairy Milk bar.

"Aw, thanks, Frank!"

"It's the least I can do." I feel my face turn red, but I recover quickly.

"Any news on the Duke's kidnapping?" Jenny asks, while opening the wrapper and nibbling on the chocolate.

"Yeah. I heard Mrs King tell Captain Forrester that MI9 have found the Duke. I even saw the Duke with an MI9 agent walk by me about five minutes ago."

"Thank God he's OK!" She snaps off a couple of pieces of chocolate and offers them to me, but I decline. Shrugging her shoulders, she eats the pieces. "But who would wanna do such a terrible thing?"

I wanted to tell Jenny that it was the Duke who 'kidnapped' himself to escape from an arranged marriage and be with his boyfriend, but if she starts asking questions, that's the end of my MI9 career.

Instead, I shrug my shoulders and say, "I don't know, Jen. There are some people who would do anything for money."

"Mmm." She finishes eating her chocolate bar absent-mindedly and places the empty wrapper in her bag. She glances away and sighs.

"Jen? Is everything alright?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "No. No, everything is not alright." She turns to face me. "Frank, there's something I have to tell you."

I nod. "OK."

"Uh… I don't know how to say this. I'm not very good at this, but uh… I want you to know that… I… I…"

Heat rushes to my face. I swallow – is this what I think this is?

"Um… Frank… I… I-I… l-l-l-li–"

"Jenny? Jenny, is that you?"

Oh, _no!_ Not now, Mrs King!

"There you are! I've been looking for you," says Mrs King, walking through the door. Her eyes flicker from me to Jenny. "What's going on here?"

"It's nothing, Aunt 'Mione. Frank and I were just talking," says Jenny. "Anyway, you wanted me for something…?"

"Ah, yes. Captain Forrester and the Duke are about to leave and I wanted you to see them off. Also, the Duke says that he has something to tell you."

"Oh. OK, then."

Mrs King leads the disappointed Jenny down the corridor, leaving me to contemplate what just happened. Jenny was about to confess her feelings to me… that is until Mrs King came and intervened. I let out a sigh and I wander down the corridor. We'll confess our feelings to each other, Jen. Not today, but soon…

**(Jenny's POV)**

"I'm really glad that you and your dad worked it all out," I say as we come out of the school and into the playground.

"Yeah, so am I. Also, Curtis, Jamie and I would like to apologise for the trouble we've caused," says the Duke.

"Yeah. Sorry, Miss Brownstone," says Curtis.

"Soz," says Jamie.

"Hey, that's OK. It actually kinda explains why you looked so nervous," I say. Move over Angelina Jolie, there's a new actress in town. I can't believe no-one suspects a thing! The Duke, Curtis or Jamie don't know what I do know, and as for Frank telling me that MI9 (per-lease!) found the Duke; my fake – and very natural – surprise acting sprang into action. And speaking of Frank, I can't believe I was gonna confess my feelings to him! The Duke's story about him confessing to Curtis inspired me to do the same… only for Aunt Hermione to come and spoil it. Don't worry, Frank, you'll get my confession – soon…

"Jen?"

I totally forgot that I'm surrounded by people. "Sorry about that. I got distracted there. Anyway, I think you and Curtis make a great couple, You Royal Highness!"

"Don't we just?" says Curtis, putting his arm around the Duke.

"Nigel! It's time to go!" Captain Forrester calls.

"Coming, Dad!" the Duke replies. "See you, Jen."

He, Curtis and Jamie towards the limo and they climb in.

"Take care!" I wave. "Come back anytime… minus the fake kidnapping."

Just when the driver shuts the limo door, the Duke climbs out and rushes towards me.

"Nigel, is something wrong?" I ask.

"I… I just wanted to say thank you," he says.

"Thank you? For what?"

"For convincing me to not through with my plan and to talk to my dad."

There's a long silence as I stare at the Duke. What the hell does he mean by…? Oh, God, no. He can't…? He doesn't…? The Duke smiles sheepishly at me. My eyes widen. Oh, crap. He knows.

"How did… when… I mean…" My voice trails off and the Duke smiles.

"When you called me Your Royal Highness, your voice sounded… familiar," he says. "But don't worry –" he taps his nose with his fingertip and winks at me – "your secret's safe with me."

I stare at the Duke for a moment, then I smile. "Thank you."

The Duke runs back to the limo and climbs in. After the driver shuts the door, the Duke winds the window down and waves at me. I wave back as the limo takes off.

"Wow," I sigh, placing my free hand on my hip and musing over what just happened. I mean who've thunk it? Someone other than Zeke and Kenzie knows about my identity – and he's not gonna tell! "Thanks, Nigel," I murmur.

"Jenny?" Aunt Hermione approaches me. "You OK?"

I smile and nod. "Peachy-keen."

"Come on, let's go back inside. I don't know about you, but I could do with a cup of coffee or two after the day we've had."

"Agreed."

I link my arm with Aunt Hermione's and we walk into school.

I sigh with content at the end of another typical day at St Hope's…


	14. The St Hope's Charity Fashion Show

**(Jenny's POV)**

I really should be careful with what I wish for. After spending three weeks busting every bad guy and criminal's butt, I had to wish for a break. I immediately regretted that wish when Zeke calls me to tell me (in a hoarse voice) that he has gone down with a cold from working too much (and too hard) and he has to stay in bed for the next two weeks. And with Zeke off, I've got no missions.

So here I am. Doodling on a piece of paper on a Wednesday morning, bored as hell. In my boredom, I draw and ultra-hip cool-cat version of myself. I make myself an attractive, anthropomorphic black cat with a peek-a-boo hairstyle (like Jessica Rabbit's) that's smooth and glossy and gorgeous, and I give myself cat features such as a tail, nose, ears and sharp whiskers. Then I draw Stark as a little fat mouse who's frightened of me, all twitchy nose and scrabbly paws. I chuckle at the finished picture.

It's the best thing I've ever done.

Suddenly, there's a loud sigh making me look up in surprise. It's Avril – looking stress while sucking on the end of her pen.

"What's wrong, Avril?"

"Oh, it's one of the charities I volunteer for," she says. "They've written to ask me for some fundraising ideas, but I just can't seem to get inspired."

"What charity is it?" Oscar asks.

"Orphans in Need – it raises money for orphans in poor countries," Avril explains. "It buys them food, medicine, clothes… but they haven't had any donations in the last six months and they're worried that they won't have enough for all the children they take care of."

"Did you say _clothes_?" Davina asks, with interest. "Avril, I think I might be getting one of those things that people get when they've thought of something really good."

"An idea?" says Rose.

"Yeah, that's it!"

"Always so modest," I murmur to myself. Then I say out loud, "What's your idea, Davina?"

"How about we put on a fashion show?" Davina says simply.

I raise my eyebrows in amazement. "That's, er… that's not a bad idea."

"Yeah." Davina nods. "We could raise loads of money for charity _and_ have fun at the same time. Whaddya say?"

"I'm in!" says Carrie.

"Me too!" the rest of the class agree.

As the class start to get excited and have similar conversations, I shrug my shoulders in agreement. Yeah, why not? At least I won't be bored and I'll have something that'll keep me busy.

I hold up a hand for silence. "All right, all right!" The room quietens down. "I think we all agree that this is a good idea, but I'll have to run this with Mr. Flatley and Aunt 'Mione. If they say yes, we'll meet in the English room at lunchtime for planning and preparation. Agreed?"

"Agreed!" the class chorus.

The class go back to their fever of excitement while I draw up a list of what is needed for the fashion show.

xxoOoxx

"…and with this fashion show, all the proceeds will go to the Orphans in Need charity," I finish telling Mr. Flatley at break-time. "So whaddya think?"

"Well, I think it's a marvellous idea!" says Mr. Flatley. "It'll be a chance for St Hope's to give back to the community."

"Thanks, Mr. F."

Behind me I hear the door open. I turn to see Aunt Hermione coming in.

"Good morning," she says. "What are you two talking about?"

"Well, Mrs King, Miss Brownstone has come up with a wonderful idea," says Mr. Flatley.

"Actually – and surprisingly – it was Davina who came up with this," I say. "We were hoping we could do a charity fashion show. And the money we raise will go towards Orphans in Need."

"Absolutely not," says Aunt Hermione, without thinking about it.

"But Aunt Hermione –"

"Out of the question. The pupils should be revising for their mock exams, not prancing up and down the catwalk like some prize pony."

"But it's for charity! Look, you've always said that St Hope's needed some publicity – and this is it. It's like what Mr. F told me just before you came in, this is a chance for St Hope's to give back to the community. Come on, Aunt H. The class is depending on me for you to say yes. Pleeease say yes. Please. Pretty please."

I appeal to Aunt Hermione with my eyes open wide. After what seems like the most intense staring contest ever, she sighs in defeat.

"OK, fine," says Aunt Hermione. "You can do your charity show."

I give her a hug. "You're amazing!" I say. "Thank you!"

"Yes, Mrs King, thank you." Mr. Flatley is about to give Aunt Hermione a hug, but she stops him by stretching her arm out.

The bell rings.

"Well, I gotta go," I say, pulling away from Aunt Hermione. "I'm gonna text everyone the good news. Thanks again, Aunt Hermione."

I exit the office as I walk down the corridor to the English room, I whip out my phone and I start to text.

_Aunt H said yes! It's all systems go. We'll meet in the English room at lunchtime._

I CC the text to everyone. But as I press send, I walk full force into something in the corridor, but a pair of arms goes around me to keep me from falling.

"Hey," a voice laughs, "where's the fire?"

I stare up into the soft sky blue eyes and dark hair… and a teasing smile only inches away from my mouth.

"Oh… h-hi, Frank," I say, my cheeks going hot.

"Hey." He lets go of my shoulders. "So what's all this? What's with the text and walk?"

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was texting everyone about the fashion show we're planning."

"A fashion show? What's it in aid of?"

"It's for the Orphans in Need charity. The money we raise will go towards them."

"Hey, that's a great idea."

"Tell that to Davina. She was the one who _amazingly_ thought of this."

"Well, I'll let you be on your way. If you need an extra pair of hands, you know where I am."

I respond with a smile, and I step past him, continue my way to the English room.

xxoOoxx

"People! Welcome to the first meeting of the Orphans in Need Charity Fashion Show," I announce to everyone at lunchtime. "I'd like to thank you all for being here today. You'll be giving your time and effort towards this great cause."

I pause while everyone cheers and claps. When the noise dies down, I continue.

"Our first order of business is the planning of the event. I've compiled a list of what is needed," I say, picking up a black marker. I write the list that I wrote during PSHE this morning onto the whiteboard: advertising and tickets, clothes, makeup and hair, photography, music, decorations and models. "Right, first off, who would like to do advertising and tickets? Advertising meaning the designing of posters and flyers."

Scoop's friend, Homie, slowly puts his hand up.

"Homie?" I nod at him.

"I've… I've got an older brother who's a graphic designer. I could ask him to design the posters, flyers and tickets," he says.

"Excellent! And once he's finished, you and your friends could put up flyers and hand out flyers."

Avril puts her hand up.

"Yes, Avril?" I say.

"Oscar and I can help sell tickets," she says, turning to Oscar, who looks extremely surprised.

"Great. Next, we've got clothes…"

Davina's hand immediately shoots up.

"Donovan and I have got clothes and fashion under control," she says. "Also, my cousin's a makeup artist and her friend's a hairdresser, so I can ask them if they can offer their services."

"Thank you, Davina," I say. "Right, photographers. Who knows someone who's a professional, part-time or amateur photographer?"

Carrie has her hand up.

"My mum takes pictures of me with my medals and trophies or me doing gymnastic poses for my blog," she says. "She encourages me to keep a blog so that when I am famous, my fans can keep track of me. I'll ask her if she can help out."

"Awesome. Now, I think with music, we've got someone who's got that covered." I turn to Scoop. "Isn't that right?"

"Don't you worry, Miss B," he says. "The Scoopmeister will put together some well-bangin' tunes for this show!"

"I knew I could count on you, Scoop. Now, decorations. I'm gonna need some volunteers to decorate the assembly hall and set up the catwalk and for models, I'm gonna need some volunteers to model the clothes. So, if you want to decorate the hall, stay with me. And to anyone who wants to model, could you go to the back of the classroom so Davina and Donovan can take your measurements."

The class separate themselves into two groups. Most of the girls in the class and three boys go to the back of the classroom, while the rest stay at the front with me. I pull out a tape measure that I found in Aunt Hermione's drawer from my pocket and I hand it over to Davina, who joins Donovan and the models at the back of the classroom.

"Right, gang," I begin. "Aunt Hermione has given us next Friday to do the fashion show, which means that we have very little time. But anything is possible if we all pull together and nothing can hold us back." I hold out my hand, palm down. "Who's with me?"

"Yeah! Woo!" the class whoop as they pile their hands on top of mine.

"Goooo team!" we cheer.

We spend the next week planning the show. It's the most talked about event in school. The pupils have been doing their bit for Avril's charity. They've been doing sponsored walks, bake sales and collecting donations. But I've got to admit, this week has been totally manic. I had to plan everything. From designing the backdrop for the catwalk to organising the decorations for the hall, the refreshments, the seating… _everything!_ I've never been so rushed off my feet. I've never planned anything like this before. But by Thursday after school, it seems as though everything is going to be fine.

The volunteers and I meet in the assembly hall for a final run through. I run my eye down the list.

"Advertising and tickets?"

"JJ and I have stuck posters up all around the school and handed out flyers," says Homie.

"And Oscar and I have sold over one hundred tickets – and there are loads more left over," says Avril.

I make a big black tick on my list. "Davina, what about the clothes?"

"I've called every fashion boutique I could think of," Davina replies. "Some of them wouldn't help – But I got two to say they would send us some of their most 'out there' samples – the models can be a sort of fashion test for them!"

"Awesome!" I exclaim. "If anyone knows how to use ahead-of-the-game fashions, it's you, Davina."

"They're sending all the clothes first thing tomorrow," she adds. "Donovan will be at school early to meet the lorry."

"Eh?!" Donovan exclaims.

"Also, my cousin and her friend have agreed to help out," says Davina.

"I is got some well wicked tunes for the show – I can set the system up today," says Scoop.

"My mum has agreed to take some shots of us," says Carrie.

"And the hall can be decorated today," I conclude. "So we have nothing to worry about. See how easy things can be when you're organised? Now let's get to work!"

While we start work on the décor, Scoop sets up the music system and puts his records in the right order. We all work hard, decorating the hall, setting up the catwalk and rigging up a curtain for the models to prepare behind. There's a little room at the back of the stage, which we've set up as a dressing room for Davina, and we prepare a space for all the fast clothing changes that are going to happen.

When we leave school, it's really late, but it feels great to know we have transformed the hall into a cool fashion show venue.

Nothing can go wrong…

**(Frank's POV)**

It's 10:00 am. Usually I would be at St Hope's at 7:30 am, but I was called to an early morning meeting by the Head of MI9 to discuss SKUL's latest escapade – smuggling valuable antiquities from Asia to sell in London. A mole inside SKUL has told us that the valuables are stored in a warehouse in Peckham – sixty of the Grandmaster's henchmen were arrested and the valuables are to be returned back to their countries.

Anyway, I can't wait for the charity fashion show. Jenny and the Year Tens have been getting everything together for the past week – an event that raises money for Avril's charity, Orphans in Need. At last the big day is here.

I head for the assembly as I'm needed to set up the chairs for the show. I step inside and see what Jenny and the Year Tens had done the night before – it looks great! Then I look at the Year Tens… who look completely dejected.

"Er… shouldn't we be setting up chairs for this afternoon?"

"There's been a disaster!" Davina squeals at top volume.

"What's wrong?"

"The lorry carrying the clothes had an accident on the way here," says Donovan. "The driver's OK but the clothes are ruined."

"What?!" I exclaim. "You're kidding."

"We wish we were!" Davina wails. "The boutiques don't have any more samples to spare! And on top of that, my cousin and her friend can't come because they've got food poisoning!"

"And that's not all," says Carrie, who has just walked up beside me. "My mum's ill – she can't make it."

"This is a nightmare!" Avril groans. "What else can go wrong?"

Scoop walks over to the decks and switches it on. Suddenly, there's a loud crackle and a bright flash. The amplifier makes a strange whining sound and goes dead. A little spiral of smoke curls out of the top of it.

Scoop stares at the amplifier and we stare at Scoop.

"Well done, Scoop," Avril says sarcastically. "Now we don't have any music."

"Well, you're the one who had to say what else can go wrong," he retorts. "So it's your fault."

"All right, everyone – calm down," I say, trying to keep the peace. "Look, how about we call Jenny. She should know what is happening."

"I've tried to call her – eight times!" says Avril. "And I have no idea where she is because she's not in the English room."

"Right." I think to where Jenny might be. She'll have to be in a place where no-one has looked. Then it hits me! "OK, you guys stay here… and try not to kill each other. I think I know where Jen is."

I walk out the assembly hall and make my way to the library.

**(Jenny's POV)**

"There must be something you have your shop we can use for the fashion show," I say to the boutique manager.

"I'm sorry. I've already told Davina and now I'm gonna tell you: we have no other samples," she says.

"Oh, OK." I sigh miserably after I hang up. I can't believe this is happening! The problems started before I even left the house. First, Donovan calls me to say that clothes that the lorry was carrying are ruined because of a road accident. Next, I get a text from Davina saying that her cousin and her friend can't make it because they've got food poisoning. Now, I've got a text from Carrie saying that her mum is ill, so she can't make it. Could this morning be any more disastrous?

_BEEP!_

I look down at my phone.

A text from Scoop.

_Da sound system iz busted. Soz._

I feel my temper flaring up. "Ah, for fuck's _sake!_" I yell, stamping my feet hard on the ground at the word sake.

"Shh, you're in a library." A voice behind me startles me. I whirl around to see Frank coming in the library. "So, this is where you've been hiding."

"Oh, Frank, this is a disaster!" I say, coming close to tears. "Everything is falling apart. We have no clothes, no makeup artist, no hair stylist, no photographer and now, no music! I've made some calls, but no-one can do it because it's so short notice. Now everything is just one big mess! Oh, God, this is the worst day ev–"

I feel a pair of arms go around me as Frank pulls me into a hug, resting his chin on top of my head. His touch feels warm and secure.

"Hey, shh. Shh, it's OK. Just take it easy and breathe," he soothes, pulling me closer. I can feel his heart beating against my chest. "You're OK. I've got you."

"Oh, Frank –" I close my eyes to hold back the tears. "I didn't want to say this but… I'm gonna have to cancel."

"Cancel?" Frank draws back, disappointed. "Jen, you can't cancel. You and the Year Tens worked too hard for this."

"Er, hello? In case you have noticed, Frank, we have no equipment for this event." I sigh. "And to think that organising a fashion show was a doddle. Please! I can't organise for toffee."

"Now stop that! Listen to yourself, this isn't you. The Jenny Brownstone I know is the one who can think of a solution to any problem. Not moan and give up. Jen, do you know why the pupils look up to you?"

I give a little shrug.

"They look up to you because you're the only teacher in this school who gives a damn about them. Most of the teachers – hell, all of the teachers – have given up on them. But not you. You give them hope. You inspire them. You're the reason they come to school," says Frank. "If you tell them that the show is cancelled, not only will you be letting those kids down, you'll be letting yourself down." He takes hold of my hands and stares deep into my eyes. "Jen, I know you'll find a solution to this. I have faith in you. I… I believe in you."

I look up to Frank, his eyes gleaming and I smile, feeling a bit better.

"Well, I better get back to the hall to make sure those kids haven't killed each other." Frank lets go of my hands and heads for the door. He turns to me before going out of the door. "Don't give up, Jen. I know you've got something up your sleeve."

And with that, Frank exits the library. I stay where I am. A little idea starts to form in my mind. A smile creeps over my face as I start to dial a number on my phone. After a few rings, the person answers.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Kenzie, it's Jenny," I say.

"Oh, hi, Jen," he says. "What can I do for you?"

"Kenzie, I need a favour."

**(Frank's POV)**

I hope I've done enough. I'd hate to think what will happen if the show is cancelled. The whole school is looking forward to it.

I enter the hall where the kids are sitting around, looking bored and miserable. Avril sees me and rushes over to me.

"Did you find Jenny?" she asks.

"Yeah," I reply. "And I've had a talk with her."

"And?" the other kids come over to me and Avril.

"I'm afraid all we can do is wait," I say.

The kids gaze at each other with concern and go back to where they were sitting and I join them as we wait with bated breath.

xxoOoxx

Ten minutes later, Jenny walks in.

"People! I've got an announcement to make!" she declares.

The kids and I go over to Jenny and surround ourselves around her to hear what she has to say. Please let it be good news…

"Guys, I have some news about the fashion show," says Jenny. "The show…" We draw in a little gasp of breath. There's a long pause. "…_will_ go on!"

The sounds of 'yes!' and sighs of relief fill the room.

"I made a few phone calls explaining the situation and there are some who are willing to help." Jenny turns to Scoop. "Scoop, I've got a friend who's got a friend who DJ's at the local nightclub – he's gonna lend us his DJing equipment."

"Ah, wicked, Miss B!" Scoop grins.

Jenny turns to Davina and Donovan. "Guys, I've got a friend from uni who's doing an internship at an independent fashion house. I've asked her to ask her boss if they can lend us some of their most fashion-forward collections – and she said yes!"

Davina squeals in delight and wraps her arms around Donovan.

"Also," Jenny continues, "my sister's lectures are cancelled for the day, so she and some of her friends can come over and do hair and makeup. Now, for the best bit – the photographer. I've hired two photographers. One is a friend from uni called JB, who's cousin has his own photography business is gonna take pictures of the show and do a photo shoot of the models. The other… works for the Fulham Chronicle who also wants to do an interview!"

The hall erupts with cheers and whoops. There's a sudden shriek – a scream – an entire operatic _chorus_.

"Awesome!"

"No _way_!"

"O – M – G!"

As the kids chatter with bright excitement in their eyes, I look over to Jenny who has a smile of triumphant glee over her face. I knew she would pull through.

"All right, guys!" Jenny claps to quieten down the room. "Now that the crisis is over, let's put on a show that everyone will remember!"

There's an even louder cheer than before, and we start setting up the seating arrangements for this afternoon.

**(Jenny's POV)**

I peek behind a curtain of the catwalk. The hall is packed and buzzing with students, teachers and the OIN (Orphans in Need) workers eager to see the fashion show. All the tickets have sold out! I can see Scoop on the side of the stage with Kenzie's friend, Parker, setting up the music system.

"Jenny, there you are!" I turn to see Livi standing behind me. "Come on; let me do your hair and makeup."

Backstage, the atmosphere is electric and buzzing, with Oscar, Avril and Homie are painting some last-minute backdrop scenes. Davina and Donovan are dashing around picking the best items from the fashion house's collections and working out a fashion scheme. Livi's friends are rushed off their feet doing all the models hair and makeup. And Carrie and Rose take charge of organising the models and putting out all the outfits on racks for the quick changes. Everyone looks happy enough.

I sit down in front of a long mirror, and Livi gets to work on my hair, giving me a style that looks super individual but fitted together perfectly too.

When Livi finishes, she stands back to look at her work. I stare at my reflection. It looks fantastic. It's straightened and then turned under at the ends for a style that looks sleek and chic.

Next, it's time for my makeup. Livi starts with a honey foundation shade that makes my skin look flawless. My eyes are outlined with black liquid eyeliner, than my eyelashes are curled and brushed with black mascara, making my eyes look bigger. Next she chooses candy floss pink gloss for my lips and matches it with a manicure and pedicure. This is what I love about Livi – she works so fast it's amazing. I look stunning and natural.

After Livi finishes glamourizing me, I rush over to the dressing room to change.

Minutes later, I come out of the dressing room looking sassy with attitude wearing an oversize camel coloured off-shoulder sweater, dark denim skinny jeans and gold peep toe T-bar platform shoes, accessorized with a gold cuff bracelet.

"All right, people," I say. "Let's rock and roll!"

Oscar hands me a microphone and I make my way to the stage. The second I walk on stage, the spotlight is on me and there's applause.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to the St Hope's Charity Fashion Show!" I call. There's a loud cheer. "The money we've raised for this show is for the Orphans in Need charity and I would like to thank you all for your donations. Now without further ado, let's start the show!"

I walk off the stage and the show begins. The hall scream and cheer with excitement as the show begins with a burst of gold confetti and the models step out onto the catwalk. (I rented a confetti cannon for the show but didn't tell anyone because I didn't want to spoil the surprise!) Scoop and Parker did a great job setting up the sound system, mixing together some awesome tunes that are blasting from the speakers.

The crowd love the décor and the music, and Davina and Donovan's fashion line look amazing. JB's cousin and the FC (Fulham Chronicle) photographer are taking some incredibly fantastic shots of the models in their fabulous outfits.

As the show went on, I can see that everyone is mesmerized by this. This fashion show is by far the biggest, best and most glamorous event anyone in St Hope's will remember, and I know it'll be talked about for years to come.

At the end, after a glittering finale, where gold and silver stars rain down on the audience, the show comes to an end and there's a storm of applause. The crowd are on their feet, stamping and shouting. I join the models on the stage and thank everybody once again. As I turn to leave the stage, I catch sight of Frank who is standing, cheering with the rest of them. He gives me a thumbs-up and I grin back at him, and I leave the stage.

xxoOoxx

I wander on the stage an hour after our spectacular fashion show. Everyone has gone home, but the students who volunteered are still here. The students who modelled are having their pictures taken by JB's cousin and the others are being interviewed by the FC photographer/journalist in Aunt Hermione's office. I'm supposed to be with them but I just needed to see the catwalk once again and drink it all in.

As I walk down the catwalk, the door to the hall opens and Frank walks in.

"Hey," he says. "Thought you'd be here."

"Hey, Frank," I say, reaching the end of the catwalk. I sit on the edge of the catwalk with my legs dangling off of the side and Frank joins me.

"That was an amazing fashion show you and the Year Tens put on."

"Thanks. I thought you and the audience would never stop clapping. But it was the most mind-blowing event ever put together – and in a week as well. The highlight of this whole thing was the amount we raised for Avril's charity – it's sensational. The workers of Orphans in Need are over the moon. Yep" – I stretch my arms above my head – "It's been quite a week."

"Well, the highlight for me was you saving the day at the last minute with your quick-thinking." His hand reaches out and hesitantly strokes my cheek. "I knew you'd pull through."

I look away, flustered.

The silence is long before I speak.

"I never really got to thank you," I say. "You know. For this morning."

"You don't have to thank me." Frank looks down at his fingers clasped tightly in his lap.

"Yes, I do. If it wasn't for you, none of this would've happened. If anything… it was you who saved the day." I move closer to Frank. "I'm not the only one who's an inspiration to those kids." I lean over and kiss him on the cheek. "See you later."

I slide off the catwalk and head for the door. Before my hand reaches for the handle, Frank calls me.

"Jenny, wait!"

I turn to see Frank walking towards me. When he stops in front of me, I notice that he's not wearing his glasses. His eyes are beautiful… and full of lust.

His arms circle my waist, pulling me towards him. "Jenny…" Is all he can say before he leans his head down and presses his warm lips against mine.

My first kiss. Little firecrackers are exploding inside me. Nice. Very nice.

The kiss lasts for a long time.

When the kiss finished, I open my eyes and Frank looks down at me, smiling.

"Wow," I whisper and pull him back for another kiss.

Frank draws back slightly, drawing his tongue along my bottom lip. He tugs it with his teeth and sticks his tongue so far down my throat I thought I might choke. It's weird yet arousing.

I feel him pushing me against the wall. Hands lift me, and I wrap my arms and legs around him.

"You are so sexy…" Frank kisses and licks my neck. "I thought so the first time I saw you walk." He sets his teeth against my skin and bites.

"Oh, Frank…" I sigh, my legs tighten around him.

I don't want this to end…

_BEEP!_

_Oh, damn!_ I speak too soon. My right arm leaves Frank's neck and I dip my hand in my back pocket to retrieve my phone. I slide it open and I read the text from Livi.

_Jen, where r u? Da journalist iz waiting!_

"Damn you…" I mutter under my breath. I close my phone and use it to tap Frank on the shoulder. "Frank? Frank, I have to go - uhn!" I flinch when he nibbles my earlobe.

"You're not going anywhere." His voice in my ear is sensuous, seductive. His lips travel to the curve of my neck where he takes turns kissing, sucking and licking it.

"B-but Frank…" I moan. "They're… they're waiting for me…"

"Well, I've been waiting for this for six months."

"I'm sure you can wait another three days."

"But Jen –"

"Frank, _please_!"

"OK, OK."

Frank pulls away from my neck and I unwrap my legs from his waist, but we still have our arms around each other, and we touch – not lips, but foreheads.

"I'm sorry I had to cut it short. But I promise you… Monday morning… after my PE lesson… you and me… will carry on our make out session… in the stationery cupboard," I say seductively. "How does that sound, _Mr London_?"

Frank responds by kissing me tenderly on the lips. "Does that answer your question, _Miss Brownstone_?" He chuckles as I swatted him playfully.

I look into Frank's gorgeous eyes and I give him a soft peck on the lips.

"See you on Monday," I say, slipping from his arms.

"Ditto," says Frank.

I stroll out of the hall and hold my breath till I'm down the corridor, and then I lean my back against the wall and sigh dreamily. After six months of talks, exchanged glances and playful flirting, I finally get my fairytale kiss with Frank.

I sigh once more and I head for Aunt Hermione's office for my interview.

Life is good.


	15. Britannia High

**(Frank's POV)**

"Oh, what a beau-ti-ful morn-in', oh, what a beau-ti-ful day-y, I've got a won-der-ful feel-ing, eve-ry-thing's go-ing my way-y," I sing, while mopping the corridor floor, feeling excited and happy.

I'm very aware of the amount of looks and stares that I'm getting from the kids and teachers but frankly, I don't care. I'm on cloud nine. In fact, I'm beyond cloud nine. I'm in my own little world, and it's whirling me all the way into outer space… that is until I suddenly hear my name.

"Frank!"

I whirl and face the eyes that stare back at me. "Mr. F! Good morning," I stammer.

"Good morning, Frank," says Mr. Flatley, giving me his normal cheery smile. "You seem to be in a good mood this morning. I heard you singing the opening song from _Oklahoma!_."

"Well, what can I say, Mr. F? The sun's out, the birds are singing and I'm just happy that my life is going right."

"Good for you, Frank. I'm glad." Mr. Flatley strolls off down the corridor and I go back to mopping.

Yes, everything in my life is going just right. After six months of dreaming about it and fantasizing about it, I finally got my kiss with Jenny. It was even better than I'd expected – it was on the lips! I spent the whole weekend reliving that Friday evening, kissing Jenny after the charity fashion show in the assembly hall. I can still taste her; still feel her arms and legs wrapped tightly around me. Absolute bliss. Then we had to part ways, but I was promised that we'll pick up where we left off on Monday (that's today!) in the stationery cupboard – after her PE lesson. I sigh happily at the thought of slipping my arms around her waist once again and pulling her against me, then feeling her mouth on mine.

"Hey, you."

I look up to find Jenny's eyes meeting mine. She's wearing a black tracksuit with two white stripes on the sides and a black sports bra, her hair pulled back tightly into a ponytail. She's carrying a purple sports bag that contain her other clothes.

I set the mop against the wall and I blushingly smile. "Hi."

"Well, aren't you forgetting something?"

At my questioning look, Jenny drops her sports bag, grabs my hand and pulls my arm around her waist. "Kiss, kiss," she demands.

I lean towards Jenny, intending to give her a quick peck on the cheek, but just at that moment Jenny turns her head and I find her mouth instead. Her lips are warm on mine; I can taste her saliva and I can smell the body fragrance she's using. I can hear people around me and Jenny catcalling and wolf-whistling at us, but we pay no attention. She slides her hands around the back of my neck. She parts my lips and I feel her tongue slide between them. Her tongue seems to do somersaults in my mouth. Her kiss is making me feel dizzy.

"Wowsers!" I say, when we eventually draw breath.

Jenny giggles mischievously, her eyes gleaming as they stare into mine. "I've missed you," she says.

"So I gathered," I tease. I glance around to make sure that Mrs King isn't around.

"Aunt Hermione is in the foyer putting up the charity fashion show newspaper article on the noticeboard," says Jenny. "We're on pages six and seven."

"Oh. Oh, OK," I say, feeling relieved.

"Frank, she _will_ find out about us."

"Yeah. And I'd hate to think how she'll take the news once she does find out."

"True. But to be honest with you, I really couldn't care less. Aunt H knows that we have been pining for each other for some time, so she better get used to this. We're a couple, whether she likes it or not."

A couple. Music to my ears. I bend my head and kiss Jenny. It's just a little kiss, our lips gently bumping. But we break away when the bell rings.

"Well, I better get going." I let go of her waist and Jenny steps back to pick up her bag. "See you later, OK? Don't forget" – She leans in towards me and whispers in my ear – "stationery cupboard."

I swallow. "Yeah. OK."

My heart is pounding as I watch her turn the corner of the corridor. As soon as she was out of sight, I lean against the wall, grinning like a Cheshire cat. I can't believe how good it feels to _be_ together with Jenny. Pushing myself off the wall, I grab the mop and I continue to wipe the floor with it while humming 'Oh, What a Beautiful Morning' under my breath.

**(Jenny's POV)**

"Good morning, class!" I chirp as I enter the gym.

"Morning, Jen!" the class chorus.

"I've got something for you," I say in a singsong voice. I drop my sports bag on a pile of blue gym mats and I take off my tracksuit jacket. I reach into the bag and pull out a newspaper, unfolding it and turning to pages six and seven. "Ta-dah!" I show them the article.

The class crowd around the article in excited chatter. Avril pushes through the crowd to the front and reads the story.

"'Charity Fashion Show a Big Success – St Hope's High School has celebrated the latest trends in their charity fashion show, raising money for Orphans in Need. Orphans in Need are a local charity which provides food, medicine and clothes for orphans in poor countries.

"'Held on the 8th March, the Year Ten students along with their teacher, Jenny Brownstone, organised and co-ordinated all aspects of the event. The afternoon proved to be a brilliant success with a packed audience of students, teachers and the workers of Orphans in Need.

"'Students modelled a range of garments from independent fashion house, Chix. The girls strutted down the catwalk in unique and glamorous dresses, tops and skirts, while the boys wore smart and sophisticated suits.

"'Celebrating the Best of British, further donations were made through a cake sale and sponsored walks. The afternoon was accompanied by hip-hop beats provided by St Hope's student, Timothy Hinklebottom (Scoop Doggy) and DJ of the Red Cube nightclub, Parker Sutton (Bling P).

"'The workers of Orphans in Need have thanked Miss Brownstone and the Year Tens involved in the organisation of the event for raising money for the charity and donating the proceeds'."

When Avril finishes reading the story, we all clap and cheer.

"Aunt Hermione has put the article up on the noticeboard in the foyer," I say, closing the newspaper and folding it. "Or if you prefer, I can give each of you a copy of the newspaper with the article that I bought from three different newsagents for you to have as a souvenir."

I receive a positive response.

"Listen, guys, I just wanna say congratulations for a majorly successful fashion show, despite the odd disaster," I say. "I've never felt so proud of you. You were brilliant. _And_ you got first-hand experience of leadership, co-operation and organisation – as well as responsibility."

The class nod and murmur in agreement.

"I mean, who knows? If the fashion show was a triumph, think of what prom night would be," I say, raising my eyebrows.

Davina gives a loud squeal that makes Donovan wince.

"No way! Jenny, are you serious?" she asks.

"Providing that everyone in class does _really_ well in their mock exams as well as their school work. So, if you want to show off that new dress you purchased from Topshop…" I smile at Davina. "…or play that mix CD you put together…" I glance at Scoop. "…I suggest you start putting your heads in the books and start revising."

The sounds of excited chattering fill the room.

"Also, there something else you should know," I add. "Frank and I… we're a couple!"

Davina squeals in excitement, and Carrie gives a whoop and the rest of the class cheer and congratulates me. The majority of the well-wishers ask me when Frank and I got together, but I tell them that we've already wasted time talking and we should start the lesson. I toss the newspaper by my bag and I begin the lesson.

xxoOoxx

"Here you go, guys," I say, handing two copies of the Fulham Chronicle to Scoop and Homie at the end of the lesson.

"Thank, Miss B," they say.

"And, er, congrats on you and Frank," says Scoop. "I always knew that you two would get together."

Scoop's words touch me. "Aw. Thanks, Scoop," I say.

"When Scoop and Homie leave the gym, I hand the last three copies of the Fulham Chronicle to Rose, Oscar and Carrie.

"Thanks, Jen," they say.

"So, er…" Carrie starts, "so what's it like kissing Frank?"

"Carrie!" Rose and Oscar exclaim in unison – but I smile.

"That's for me to know and you to _never_ find out," I say. "Now, go on, off to your next lesson."

Rose, Oscar and Carrie make their way out through the gym door and I head to the changing room to take a shower. I relax under the warm water, feeling the tension seep from my muscles. I reach for my special supply of aromatherapy bath gel and lather up, soaping myself under the streaming water. But once I towel dry and stuff my damp body into underwear, my wristwatch communicator starts to beep.

"Oh, man!" I mutter under my breath. Wrapping a towel around my body, I reach into the side pockets of my bag and pull out my communicator and answer. "Hey, Zeke," I say. "Glad that you're feeling better."

"I _am_ better. It'll take more than a common cold to stop the Zekeinator," says Zeke. "Oh, by the way, congrats on that fashion show you and the kids did – Kenzie told me about it."

"Thanks. Despite the few black spots we encountered, we still came through in the end."

"Also, congratulations on _finally_ getting it together with Frank."

"Zeke!" My face is red hot.

"What? I saw you two this morning sharing a kiss – or should I say snog – in the corridor via CCTV."

"OK," I say, swiftly changing the subject, "so other than congratulating me on things I did in the last week, what did you really call me for?"

"This." A picture of a modern-looking building appears on the screen. The exterior of the building is constructed in cube architecture using larch facade and the square windows are placed sequentially on all sides. "Britannia High – a school located in Chiswick, West London that specializes in the performing arts. Since last Monday, a number of students have gone missing. They are the most progressive students in the school. Your mission is to go undercover as a student, find out who's behind the disappearances and stop them."

"What… you mean today?"

"Well, yeah, of course today. Unless… you have other plans, say… with your new _boyfriend_."

Boyfriend. I feel giddy inside just hearing that word. I go into a happy little daze knowing that Frank is now my _boyfriend_. Before I can reply to Zeke, my mobile beeps. I take the phone out of my bag and slide it open, reading a text from Frank.

_I'm so so so extra sorry but I CAN'T meet up with you. Mr F has me doing a list of jobs as long as my arm and I don't know when I'll finish. I do hope you understand and don't feel too mad at me._

I groan after I read the text.

"Trouble in paradise already?" says Zeke.

"No," I say, as I close the phone. "Apparently, Frank has got his hands full, meaning that we can't meet up. And since we can't meet up, I'm all yours."

"Yay! For a second there, I thought I had to get someone else for the mission, but I knew my favourite and _only_ crime-fighter would pull through in the end."

"Oh, Zeke, you charming charmer, you."

"I aim to please. Anyway, good luck! Oh, and before I go, I suggest activating your cloaking device – your Aunt Hermione has entered the gym and let's just say she's not looking like a happy bunny."

Zeke switches off. I quickly strap the communicator onto my wrist and activate the cloaking device, becoming invisible.

"Jenny? You in here?" says Aunt Hermione, entering the changing room.

I stay silent as she comes to me. She picks up my sports bag and goes into the showers. I wait anxiously while she tinkers around in the showers. She comes out a moment later, still carrying my sports bag. Aunt Hermione places my sports bag in its original spot and shrugging her shoulders, she concedes defeat – at least for now. With a final glance around the changing room, she turns and walks out.

I heave a sigh of relief when Aunt Hermione exits the gym. It's obvious why she wants to see me. She's found out about me and Frank – via note-passing and gossiping students in her class. I feel a bit terrible for using the cloaking device on her, but now I can understand what Frank was saying about how she'll take the news, especially since I had a whole weekend to tell her. And now Frank will have his head bitten off by my aunt. Oh Frank, I'm sorry. I feel so mean, but it's only because I've got _my_ hands full otherwise I'd would have told her. I hope he won't be cross with me when I get back.

I pick up my sports bag and place it under a bench in the corner of the room and whilst in invisible mode; I press the blue button on my communicator and change into my catsuit. It feels good to back in the catsuit. I leave the changing room and the gym and out into the playground. When I reach the middle of the playground, I press the green button on my communicator, activating the Rocket Go-go Boots. I launch myself in the air and I make my way to the Britannia High.

**(Frank's POV)**

I'm trying to think of an excuse to use on Jenny about why I can't meet up with her when the elevator doors part open and Rose, Oscar and Carrie enter HQ. Before I can start to brief them, I notice that the three spies are grinning from ear to ear.

"What's going on?" I ask slowly.

"I've got three syllables for you, Frank," says Rose. "Fi-na-lly."

I stare at her, puzzled.

"Jenny told us the good news," says Oscar. "You and she are together."

I blush. "Ah… yeah. Yes, it's true. Jenny and I are officially a couple."

"Well, it's about time," says Carrie. "But congratulations, nonetheless. You two make a really cute couple."

I blush even darker. "Thanks," I mutter shyly. "Right, well, anyway, team, take a look at this." I turn on the middle computer screen. "This is Britannia High. An all-round performing arts and entertainment school, based in Chiswick, West London. During the last week, a number of students have disappeared. They are the school's most talented students. Your mission is to go to the school and find out who's behind the disappearances."

"Cool! An undercover mission. Gadgets?"

"Just this." I pick up a small hand held bazooka by the computers. "The Soap Bubble Prison Gun – used to trap targets in a virtually inescapable bubble."

"Sweet." Carrie takes the gun.

"I'll stay here and pull up a list of the missing students and their talents," Rose suggests.

"Right. Come on, Carrie. Let's go," says Oscar, turning on his heel and heading for the elevator.

Carrie follows behind and they leave HQ. As Rose settles by the computers, I take out my phone and I start to type.

"Texting to your new _girlfriend_?" says Rose.

"Hm?" I glance at Rose. "Oh, yeah. I was supposed to meet up with Jenny but I can't because of… you know," I say as I text. "So I'm just making up an excuse about why we can't meet up."

There is a little silence.

"You know she can't find out who you are," Rose says suddenly.

I look up at her.

"I mean who you _really_ are. She can't find out," she says. "If she does, you'll get relocated. You'll never see her again."

There's a long pause.

Eventually, I nod and say, "I know." And resume back to typing. I can't bear the thought of losing Jenny if she found out who I really am and what I really do. I care too much about her to let that happen.

Once I finish typing the text, I send the message. I pocket my phone and I join Rose at the computers.


	16. Lily Rubin: Pop Star or Pop Fraud

**(Jenny's POV)**

I arrive at Britannia High, landing on the roof of a bus stop opposite the school. Jumping off the roof, I look around to see if anyone's about. A white Nissan Micra drives past. I look behind me where there's a park and children's playground. No-one's there other than the pigeons and crows. I go under the bus shelter and open my communicator.

"Deactivate cloaking device," I say to the communicator, while at the same time, I press the blue button above the keypads to disguise myself.

As my body becomes visible, my disguise is revealed. Rolled-up black skinny jeans to show off the nude-coloured brogues, teamed with a grey oversized slouchy sweater and a pastel peppermint green shirt underneath. It's finished off with a black fedora, a pink metallic shoulder bag and oversized speckled turtle horn-rimmed glasses that are the essence of cool. And to make sure that my disguise is foolproof; my hair is replaced with a wavy dark brown wig that rests comfortably on my shoulders.

I look around once again to make sure no-one is around. The street is empty. I step out of the bus shelter and cross the road. I push the doors open and enter Britannia High.

While I walk along the bustling corridor of Britannia High, I'm amaze at what I see. The school is designed artistically with its interior. The open plan floor space has constructed abstract, white boxes hanging on the ceiling to filter sunlight through the high skylights and the staircases are shaped sculpturally. What's more impressive is the open and bright study environment where everyone is part of the same room – only to be separated by the split levels and glass walls of the teaching rooms. The varied pattern of windows not only creates a strong visual effect, it also generously lets the light flow into the building and gives a view of the park and houses around the school.

I'm so fascinated by the layout of the school, that I bump into a girl at the bottom of the stairs, causing her to drop her books and pens. When I recover from the collision, I kneel down and help pick up her things. When we finish, we both climb to our feet.

"Thanks," the girl says as I hand her books to her.

"It's the least I can do," I say with a Geordie accent to further my disguise. "The interior design of this school is so amazing and I wasn't paying attention."

"That's OK. New girl, right?"

I smile. "Yeah. I'm all new. The new improved me. I'm… Simone. Simone Connors."

"Welcome to Britannia High, Simone. I'm Lola Moss," she says. "So what performing arts classes are you studying?"

"Oh… er… all of them."

"Drama, Music and Dance? Awesome. I'm only doing Music and Dance." The bell rings. "Speaking of which, that's second period starting," Lola explains. "And since you're new, you'll have to go straight to your second-period class and skip going to first period. Luckily, the second-period class is Music, so I can show you the way to the class."

"Thanks," I say.

I study Lola out of the corner of my eye as we walk. She's small and pretty, short blonde curly hair, with bright blue eyes. She's wearing indigo skinny jeans, with a scoop-neck black tee and a powder-blue skinny scarf, and tan-coloured Ugg boots.

"Here we are," says Lola, stopping outside a room labelled MUSIC ROOM. Taking my elbow, she guides me into the classroom door.

The music room looks similar to the one in _Glee_: ten row bleachers at the back wall, a piano in the middle of the room with a drum kit against the near door. Other instruments including guitars, trumpets and saxophones are on their stands, resting against the wall, by the bleachers.

The room looks like it can hold a class of twenty, but after I enter the room, it looks half empty. There are only nine people here and that includes me and Lola.

I follow Lola to the bleachers, where we sit on the fifth row. A tall girl strolls over. She has straight, shiny auburn hair to her waist and deep violet eyes. She's wearing an off white, lace trim top, layered with a pink knit cardigan and a dark denim jacket on top. With olive twill cargo trousers and brown buckle trim ankle boots. The look is complete with a pink check flat cap. The girl climbs up the bleachers and sits next to Lola.

"Hey, Lola," she says. She sees me. "Oh, hello."

"Grace Lamb, this is Simone Connors," Lola announces. "She's new."

"Really? That's the third person this morning that I've seen who's new."

"Oh? Where were the other two?" I ask.

"In my last lesson, Maths," Grace replies. "They were wiping the floor with those questions that Miss Segal was throwing. They're both from Liverpool. Their names are Jon Something-something and Cami Something-or-other, I wasn't really paying attention. Oh, look, here they are now."

I look to the door and see Jon and Cami enter the room. Jon is tall, with dark mop-top hair and light blue eyes. He's wearing a black shirt over dark denim jeans and a grey beanie. Cami is a foot shorter than Jon. She's dark-skinned with a mini afro and brown eyes, wearing orange skinny jeans, and a cropped yellow sweater. I can't put my finger on it, but they look familiar. I've got a feeling that we've met before.

As they slide into the first row of the bleachers, a ruggedly handsome man steps into the room, closing the door behind him. He can't be that old – maybe mid- to late-thirties, with dark hair and eyes and a tall, well-built frame. He's wearing dark denim jeans and a black leather jacket over a green turtleneck.

"That's Mr. Carson," says Lola. "The best music teacher in Britannia High and very, _very_ cute."

"Good morning, everyone!" says Mr. Carson, taking off his leather jacket and setting it on a table. "Hope you all had a nice weekend. I'm really looking forward to hearing what song you've picked from your favourite musical. So, who would like to go first?"

Everyone goes quiet. No-one wants to go first.

"All right, I'll pick someone." Mr. Carson rolls up his sleeves as he looks at the bleachers. After a slight pause, he sets his eyes on me. "You! Girl with the hat. I've not seen you before."

"This is Simone," Grace tells him. "She's new."

"Really? Well, Simone, since you're new, how about being the first one to sing a song from your favourite musical."

"OK," I say, with a shrug.

I make my way to the middle of the floor, feeling confident and relaxed.

"Shall I begin?" I ask.

"First, tell me the name of the song you'll be singing and from which musical," says Mr. Carson.

"'Hopelessly Devoted to You' from _Grease_," I say. I've watched that film so many times, I practically know every line.

"OK, then, away you go."

I take a deep breath and start: "Guess mine is not the first heart broken…"

When I finish, there's a round of applause.

Mr. Carson looks impressed. "Wow," he says, "you're really good. You've got loads of confidence."

I smile. "Thanks."

I return to my seat and Mr. Carson picks the next person. Lola. Her turn. She does a passionate, emotional audition of 'Over the Rainbow' from _The Wizard of Oz _that moves everyone. Grace is next. She gives a confident audition, belting out 'Tomorrow' from _Annie_. Jon looks slightly nervous and stammers a few times to 'Greased Lightning' from _Grease_, and Cami forgets one of the lines to 'Good Morning, Baltimore' from _Hairspray_, but soon it's over.

"That was a great job everyone," Mr. Carson says warmly. "You really captured a wonderful sense of atmosphere. Well do–"

Just then, the door opens and someone enters the classroom. It's a girl. She looks a couple of inches shorter than Lola. She looks mousy and pale; her hair is chestnut brown and lank, drawn back into a ponytail. She's slightly on the chubby side – her face is round, with small dark brown eyes, almost black with rimless, rectangular glasses and round puffs of cheeks. She's wearing a dark green hooded sweater, black denim shorts, black opaque tights and dark blue Converse shoes, accessorized with a necklace with a little gold frog on it, something her mother or grandmother must have given her.

"Lily Rubin, you're late," says Mr. Carson. "Forty minutes late."

"Sor-Sorry, Mr. Carson," Lily pants. "I… er… I lost track of time."

"Well, you're here now. So how about stepping to the front and do your audition piece from your favourite musical."

All eyes are on the nervous girl as she sets her bag on the first row of bleachers and stands in the centre of the room.

"What song are you going to do?" Mr. Carson asks.

"'I Dreamed a Dream' from _Les Misérables_," Lily replies.

"Right, off you go."

Lily tilts her chin in the air, and a light suddenly flares in her eyes. Then, in a clear, strong voice, she begins her audition piece. Her rich tones play up and down the words almost as if she was singing. She moves lyrically across the room, so that everyone watching feels swept up in the song. I feel tears prick my eyes, and from the corner of them, I can see Lola and Grace hold each other's hand tightly as they listen, transfixed. When Lily finishes, there's a stunned silence. The music room erupts in cheers and whoops. Lily seems to return to her old, nervous self, because she tries to slip off to her seat, but Mr. Carson will not allow it. He leaps up beside her and holds her arm.

"Well Lily, I must admit, I never thought you had it in you," the music teacher confesses. "And aren't you a naughty girl, hiding a voice like that under the carpet for all these months."

Lily says nothing. She blushes very red and nods. Then the bell clangs and everyone grabs their stuff.

I leave the music room with Lola and Grace and we saunter off to the Portakabins.

"Wow, that Lily girl sure has some voice," I say, seating myself on the steps that lead down to the Portakabins.

"Lily was totally, earth-shatteringly awesome," Lola says with deep respect, sitting beside me.

"I know," says Grace, astonished, nudging up beside us. "Normally, Lily couldn't sing to save her life."

"Grace! Don't be such a cow," Lola says primly.

"What? It's true. Last week, she's never been able to hold a tune. And suddenly she can sing like Adele? Come on. Don't you remember last Tuesday in Dance class? Lily couldn't get to grips with a simple tap dance routine – she was the worst in the class, even worse than Duncan Lewis and he's socially inept! Two days later, she's dancing around the room like Gene Kelly in _Singin' in the Rain_ – dancing hundred times better than Shannon Carter who, by the way, was not in the class when Lily did the routine.

And speaking of actors, you should have heard what happened in Drama class last Wednesday. Roxanne Bennie was telling me during Maths class this morning that she and the rest of the Drama class are doing a brand-new retelling of _Sleeping Beauty_ called _Thorn Rose_ and Lily decides to audition for Princess Rose – the lead role. But on that day, she either messed up the lines or forgets the words. Then, on Friday, Mr. Lee picked out the people who were going to do a certain part. He chooses Muffy O'Casey for the role of Princess Rose, but Muffy wasn't there and Mr. Lee didn't have time to pick out an understudy for her, so Lily volunteers to be the understudy for Muffy and you'll never guessed what happened. She recites every line that Princess Rose says from the script – without even looking at the script! Now, she's cast as an understudy. Explain that one."

"Well, maybe… maybe someone offered to help Lily with the tap dance routine and she recorded the whole script on her phone and listened to it when she was working."

"Come on, Lola. Get real. Two week ago, Lily Rubin had the zero factors – she can't sing, dance or act. Then during the last week, several students have started disappearing – they're the ones who could sing, dance _and_ act – and now Lily is some sort of superstar! There's something not right about this. Something weird." Grace turns to me. "What do you think, Simone?"

I think you've found me suspect number one, two and three. "I… I think Lola's right. Maybe someone offered their services to help out Lily."

"Told ya," says Lola, with a grin.

"You two are crazy," says Grace.

She and Lola go into conversation about something-or-other, while I bring out my phone and text Zeke to look up information on Lily. After I send the text, the bell goes and we go back into school to the next lesson.

**(Frank's POV)**

"Here you go, Rose," I say, bringing a cup of water to her and setting it next to her on the table.

"Thanks, Frank," she says, taking it.

I slide into my chair as Rose takes a sip of the water. We've been working on the computers for two hours pulling up names of any student from Britannia High that have been absent for the past week. Our eyes are aching and my fingertips feel numb from the amount of typing I did. So I think we both deserve a break.

"So when did you and Jenny get together?" Rose asks after she downs her drink.

I blush, a little surprised by the question. "L-last Friday – after the fashion show," I say. "We got talking for a bit and then she… she kissed me on the cheek – as a sort-of thank-you for me not letting her cancel the show. I thought that we couldn't leave it there, so I called after her before she could leave the hall and we… you know."

"Does Mrs King know?"

"No. But Jenny says that she doesn't care if Mrs King knows. All Jenny cares about… is me and her together. And… And I care about that, too."

"Well, I'm glad that you and Jenny are together. I mean it took six months, but you two got there in the end."

I chuckle at Rose's comment.

Then a voice comes on the radio. "Hello? Guys?"

Rose answers. "Hey, Oscar. How's it going?"

"Carrie and I have found a lead behind the missing students. Her name's Lily Rubin."

As Rose types the name into the computer, my phone beeps. I take it out from the inside of my jacket and gulp when I see the person who sent me the text – Mrs King. I unlock the phone and read the message.

_My office – NOW!_

"Oh, bugger," I mutter.

"What's wrong?" Rose asks.

"It's Mrs King," I say. "She wants me in her office – right now."

"Uh-oh."

"Exactly. I don't want to go. Maybe I should fake an illness. Say I've come down with the flu –"

"Frank, you can do this. Just remember to breath and don't let her intimidate you."

I manage a weak nod as I stand up and head to the elevator. I pause when the doors open, and I look over my shoulder to Rose, who's given me a thumbs-up. After that, I enter and leave HQ to face the inevitable.

xxoOoxx

Oh God. This is it. My hands are sweating and I feel numb as I stare at the door to Mrs King's office and I hold my fist over the door like I'm about to knock on it. I stay standing still with my fist hovering over the door until my entire arm goes numb. I've rehearsed again and again in my head the things I'm going to say. They all sound stupid. I decide I can't say anything. I can't face seeing Mrs King because I'm sure she'd tell me to stay away from Jenny.

But I don't want to stay away from Jenny. I like – no, not like… love – I _love_ her. I loved her from the moment I saw her and I won't stop. My fist suddenly starts knocking on the door all by itself.

After a moment, I hear Mrs King's voice. "Come in."

Taking a deep breath, I turn the handle of the door and enter.

I walk over to the front of Mrs King's desk – where she's marking coursework – and I stand there, trying to stop my knees from shaking.

When she finishes marking, Mrs King finally looks up at me. "Ah, Mr. London," she says, "have a seat."

I try to smile as I sit down opposite her at her desk, but she doesn't smile back, which doesn't bode well.

"Do you know I asked you here, Mr. London?" Mrs King asks.

I want to try and break the ice with a joke by saying if she needed help with coursework marking, but I know it won't go down well. So I decide to try a mental retreat and admit to nothing.

"Uh… no?" I say.

"You're here because I wanted to run by something with you," says Mrs King. "This morning, during my History lesson with the Year Nines, I caught two girls passing notes to each other. I marched over to them and demanded that they should hand the note to me – which they did." She holds up a small piece of folded paper. "This is the note in question I have in my hand. And this is what it says." Mrs King unfolds the paper and starts to read. "'By the way, T, I don't know if you know, but this morning I saw the Year Ten teacher, Jenny Brownstone, snogging the face off of Frank the caretaker. I think they're finally an item'." Mrs King places the note on top of the papers she's marked and faces me. "So, Mr. London, is it true? Are you and my niece an item?"

I sit on my hands and look at the carpet. "Er…"

"Yes or no, Mr. London," says Mrs King.

I want to open my mouth and deny everything, but I know that will fail because the school's CCTV monitors the corridors. So if I say no and Mrs King sees the footage, I'm finished. If only Jenny was here, she'd know what to do… what to say. I try and picture Jenny in the room with me. We're sitting side by side and Mrs King is telling the both of us about what that Year Nine girl saw. And when Mrs King asks us if it's true, I'll be nervous. But I look over to Jenny, where she's smiling at me – she's letting me know that everything's going to be alright. I smile back and taking hold of Jenny's hand, I'd turn to Mrs King and say…

"Yes, Mrs King, it's true. Jenny and I… are an item."

Mrs King blinks, not quite sure what to say. Then – "You and Jenny… you're together?"

I nod. "Yes."

We sit in the office for an uncomfortable minute before Mrs King speaks.

"When did this happen?"

"Last Friday," I say, "after the charity fashion show."

"I see." There's a long pause. "You know, after my History lesson, I went to look for Jenny. I wanted to know from her if she and you were an item or not, Frank. And if she was, I wanted her to explain to me why she didn't tell me. Why I had to hear it – or should I say see it, on a note – from a Year Nine girl. But since I can't find her, I'm going to ask you, Frank: why did a Year Nine girl break the news to me, via note, about you and Jenny? And why didn't she tell me?"

I open my mouth. The words are there, buzzing in my brain. I just have to trigger my tongue into action.

"Well, Mr. London? Would you like to tell me why my niece didn't tell me?" says Mrs King.

Say it, Frank. SAY IT!

"Because she knew you'd react like this."

"Excuse me?"

"The reason Jenny didn't tell you about us is because she knew that you'd react like this and you would do something to stop us from being together."

"What on _earth_ are you talking about?"

It all comes out. "Mrs King, ever since Jenny and I developed an instant friendship since she's been here, you have tried on numerous occasions to stop us from going further. And I think I can conclude why you do it: you think Jenny shouldn't be with me. You think she deserves better. Well, I've got news for you, Mrs King; I _am_ the better person who deserves Jenny!"

Mrs King is shocked. "Mr. London –"

"I'm not finished." I can't stop myself. "I may be some caretaker with no decent education or a million pounds in the bank, but Jenny doesn't care about that – she doesn't care that I'm a loser. Since she's been at this school, I've never yelled at her or done anything to hurt her, I've only ever shown her love and friendship, which she has done in return. Mrs King, I know you love your niece and you don't want her to get hurt, but Jenny is old enough to make her own decisions. So if she decides she wants to be with me, you have to respect that. Otherwise you'll end up being hated." Oh God, what have I said? I take a deep breath after that long speech.

Mrs King is still gobsmacked and is looking more than a bit unhappy.

"I'll see myself out," I say, standing up. I exit Mrs King's office. I hold my breath till I'm safely outside the broom cupboard. I scan my thumbprint on the biometric panel of the light switch and I enter the cupboard. I pull the handle of the mop and the lift takes me down to HQ.

"Frank!" says Rose when she sees me. "How did it go?"

I walk over and sit down at the computers. I cover my face with my hands. "Awful. It was truly and utterly awful. I think I may have blown my chances of ever being with Jenny."

"I'm sure wasn't that bad."

I lift my face from my hands. "Rose, you weren't there. The atmosphere was so thick; you needed a chainsaw to break it up. Let's face it: I messed up." I let out a sigh and decide to change the subject. "Anyway, enough about me. How's the mission?"

"Well, before you left, you heard from Oscar that he and Carrie have found a lead as to who is behind the disappearances."

"Lily Rubin."

"Exactly. While you were gone, I looked up Lily on the database, and it says that she is the daughter of former musical theatre actress, Amber Rubin." Rose types Amber's name and a picture of a middle-aged woman with dark brown hair and light brown eyes shows up on the screen. "Amber performed in a number of West End musicals such as _Cats_, _Phantom of the Opera_ and _Les Misérables_ until 2002 when she was hit head-on by a drunk driver and lost both of her legs. She now walks with the use of prosthetic limbs and a crutch."

"So Amber is forcing Lily into living her dream by enrolling her into a performing arts school, so when Lily graduates, she'll be a West End star, just like her mother."

"There's only one problem: Lily doesn't have the singing, dancing or acting abilities that her mum has. According to her school reports, the only subjects that Lily does well in are the ones that'll be taught here in St Hope's."

"Ah. Maybe Amber knows that Lily doesn't have any theatrical abilities and has created a machine that takes the abilities of a person and administrates them into Lily. Question is where is it?"

"It'll be hidden somewhere in Britannia High. I'm sure Oscar and Carrie will find it."

"Uh, guys. We've got a problem," I hear Oscar say over the radio.

"Oscar, what's wrong?" I ask.

"It's Carrie – she's missing."

"What?!" Rose and I say in unison.

"When did this happen?" Rose asks.

"After our dance class, when I called you. Carrie said that she was going to the toilet. I've tried her communicator and her mobile," says Oscar. "I think Lily's got her."

"She'll be after Carrie's abilities," I say. "Oscar, what were the class doing?"

"We were learning about acro dance – a style of dance that combines dance and acrobatics. It's in contrast to gymnastics. And with Carrie's gymnastics abilities, she's a shoo-in. But where did Lily take Carrie?"

"She can't have taken Carrie too far. Let me trace Carrie's location through her communicator." Rose begins typing. A picture of Carrie shows up on the screen and then her pencil communicator comes up. Rose types a few more keys and the picture of Carrie's communicator turns into a blueprint. Rose keeps on typing and a floor plan of Britannia High shows up. She types once more and a few seconds later… "Got her!" she says, as a giant red dot begins blinking on the screen. "Carrie's in some sort-of underground bunker that's hidden under Britannia High."

"And if Carrie's there, then so are the missing students," I say.

"The entrance to the bunker is somewhere in the theatre of the school. It'll probably be a hidden trapdoor on the stage."

"Thanks, Rose," says Oscar. "I'm heading there right now."

"Be careful, Oscar," I say. "And stay on your toes. If Lily gets Carrie's abilities, not only will she have Carrie's gymnastics skills, but her martial arts skills, too." I hang up and lean back on my chair.

"I hope he makes it on time," says Rose.

"Mmm. You better get yourself down there – see if you can find a way of reversing the process," I suggest. "I'll stay here and arrange a SWAT team and a van for Lily and Amber."

"OK." Rose stands up, stretches and heads for the elevator. But not before she tells me, "Just so you know, Frank, you did all you could. You just have to wait and see what Mrs King decides."

And with that, Rose leaves HQ. You just had to remind me about my disastrous meeting with Mrs King. I think back to what happened in her office not more than ten minutes ago. The look on Mrs King's face when I told her why Jenny didn't tell her, how I deserved Jenny and how she'll be hated if she didn't respect the decisions that Jenny makes. I feel I've really blown it. I shake my head and sigh, and then I distract myself with a phone call to MI9 to arrange the SWAT team and van.


	17. Britannia's Forgotten Talents

**(Jenny's POV)**

The clock's just struck and it's one o'clock. Lunchtime. I tell Lola and Grace that I'm going to the toilets to freshen up and I'll meet them in the canteen. But really, I needed to find a quiet spot to call Zeke so he can tell me what there is to know about Lily. After a few minutes of looking, I come across the school's theatre, where four students and their teacher are exiting the room. I hide behind a wide concrete beam so they don't see me. After I hear the door shut, I glance quickly around the theatre. Empty. I open my communicator and call Zeke.

"Oh, hi, Jen," he says. "How's Britannia High?"

"Hard," I reply in my normal voice. "I thought being a student was hard, but not as hard as being a Britannia High student. Did you know that the students have to take a full academic course load while participating in conservatory-style arts concentration? So, not only do the students have to work on their dancing/singing/acting, but they have to work on the national curriculum. Unbelievable! Anyway, what did you get on Lily Rubin?"

"Well, after hacking into the school's system and reading on Lily's reports, it seems that Miss Rubin 'has a good brain and is a high achiever in the curriculum but lacks focus in the arts'."

"So, Lily is the school's star pupil when it comes to subjects like Maths, English and Science et cetera, but she sucks in performing arts?" Zeke nods. "So why is she here if she can't sing, dance or act?"

"Because of this." A picture of a middle-aged, brown-haired, brown-eyed woman appears on the screen. "This is Amber Rubin – Lily's mother. Amber was a former dancer and stage actress who starred in a number of West End musicals. Then, in 2002, Amber had to have both of her legs amputated as a result of an accident in which a drunk driver rammed into her. She now uses prosthetic limbs and a crutch to allow personal mobility, but her musical theatrical career is well and truly over."

"So, Amber wants Lily to live out her dream by enrolling her into Britannia High, so she'll be a West End star. But Amber must know that Lily doesn't have the performing arts skills that she has. I mean you should have heard Lily in Music this morning. She was great. No, not great – excellent. She sounded like SuBo from Britain's Got Talent. Then, in Dance class, just before lunch, while everyone was dancing with grace to a simple acro dance routine, Lily was abysmal! While doing a twirl, her arm catches someone on the shoulder and another on the chest. Then she lands on teacher's foot as she does a handspring, possibly crippling her. Grace is right – something strange is going on with Lily."

"Grace?"

"One of Lily's classmates. She was telling me and her friend Lola that two weeks ago, Lily was crap at performing arts and now she's suddenly a sensation –"

I stop when I hear a door being pulled open.

"Jen – what's wrong?" says Zeke.

I raise a finger to my lips. "Shhhh," I whisper. "There's someone else in here."

I peek out from behind the pillar in time to see a figure step into the theatre. I gasp a little when I see who it is – Lily. She's making her way down the centre aisle, to the stage, with someone – who's unconscious – over her shoulder in a fireman's lift. It's Cami! Lily walks up on to the stage and stands in the middle of it. She stamps hard on the stage. I hear a clanking sound. Then a grinding sound. Then a groaning sound.

Slowly, Lily and the unconscious Cami disappear into the stage.

"Whoa," I whisper in amazement. I leave my hiding place behind the pillar and make my way to the stage. When I get there, I spot a big, square hole in the middle of the stage – but the hole is closed by a platform. "A trapdoor," I murmur.

"Jen! What's going on?"

Shoot, I forgot that Zeke was still on the line.

"Sorry, Zeke," I say, looking down at the screen of my communicator. "I think I may have found the secret hiding place of the missing students. They're under the stage. I'm going in. I'll see you soon."

"OK, see ya. Good luck."

After I hang up, I search for the switch that Lily used to lower herself and Cami down into the stage.

A small peg on the stage floor catches my eye.

I step on the peg and jump on the trapdoor.

I hear a clanking sound. Then a rumbling. Then a grinding.

The square section of the floor begins to lower itself.

The clanking grows louder. The square platform shakes beneath me as I slide down. Down, down – until the stage disappears, and I'm surrounded by darkness. But not for long.

"Activate torch," I say into the communicator. A beam of light from my communicator washes over the walls as I sink lower and lower under the stage.

I expect the platform to come to a stop just beneath the stage.

But, to my surprise, the platform keeps dropping.

And it picks up speed as it slides farther and farther down.

I wonder how far down this thing goes…

"Ohh!" I cry out as the platform finally hits the bottom with a hard _thud_!

I'm thrown to the floor.

I scramble to my feet quickly.

I raise my eyes to the theatre ceiling. It's a small, square glow in the far distance. It seems to be miles and miles above me.

I raise my communicator/torch and sweep it around slowly. I'm in the middle of a large, empty chamber. It tunnels out in two directions. The tunnel probably stretches all the way under the school. Maybe even farther. Maybe it goes under the entire block!

I keep my light down on the ground as I step into a long tunnel, to see where I'm going. I take a few steps and then stop to listen.

Silence.

I carry on walking, following the tunnel from one curve, then another.

The floor becomes soft and muddy. The air grows cooler.

I hear a soft, chittering sound in the distance. God, I hope it's not bats.

Suddenly, the tunnel ends, and I find myself at a low doorway. I step up to the door, my communicator/torch beaming over it.

I reach out and push the door. It creaks open. I wince – hoping that Lily or her mother didn't hear it. I peep inside and my eyes widen at what I see.

A room. And not just any room – a room that has the missing students. The ten students are kept in cages like they're wild animals, looking worn-out and somnolent. The only pieces of furniture in the cage with them are a folding chair, a beat-up sofa with one of the cushions missing, blankets and a small, unmade bed against the wall. Empty boxes of cereal, small bowls and five large bottles of water are beside the bed. The students are all huddled together on the sofa and the floor, blankets over their shoulders.

"Put her on the chair!" a woman's voice instructs – presumably Amber Rubin.

I deactivate the torch and activate the cloaking device. As quietly as I can be, I carefully ease myself into the room. Inside, I see two big, black chairs in the middle of the room – their backs to each other. Attached to the chairs are black open face helmets with a red snap-on visor. Lily places Cami, who's still unconscious, in one of the chairs and straps her wrists and ankles. Lily lowers the helmet onto Cami's head; the visor is over Cami's closed eyes and nods to her mother that everything is secure.

"Good," says Amber. "Now your turn."

Lily sits on the opposite chair, her back to Cami. Lily straps her ankles and Amber straps Lily's wrists. Just as Amber lowers the helmet onto Lily's head, I can see a flash of misery in Lily's eyes. She didn't want to do this – she was roped in by her mother! After Amber fits the helmet, she walks over to a table against the far wall, where there two laptops connected to each other and to the black chairs standing on it and starts to type.

Suddenly, I heard a low, humming sound. It takes me ten seconds to realize that it's coming from the machine. I quietly creep over to Amber and the laptops to find out what she's doing to Cami and Lily. I look at the monitor of the laptops. They're both show the same thing – a scan of someone's brains. The brains of Cami and Lily! The laptop showing Cami's brain is on the right, while Lily's brain scan is on the left. Amber seems to be more focused on Cami's brain than Lily's, examining her thoughts and memories. What is she looking for?

Just then, Amber gasps softly. "There you are," she whispers. She starts to tap with rapid movement. Then she presses 'Enter' on her laptop keyboard and watches with glee as bits of Cami's mind is transferred into Lily's brain.

I turn to Cami – her body is shaking and her hands are twitching. Then I look to Lily – she hands gripping the armrests of the chair as her body shakes and trembles.

Turning back to the laptops, I see that the last reminding pieces of Cami's mind are transfer to Lily's brain. When the transfer is finishes, the chairs stop humming and the bodies stop shaking. Amber uses her crutch to support herself as she gets up and goes to Lily, unstrapping her wrists. Weak as she is, Lily unstraps her ankles and starts to stand up – only for her to slump against Amber, holding herself up by putting an arm around Amber's shoulder.

"Easy now," says Amber. "You OK?"

"Ye… Yeah. I guess," Lily murmurs. She draws back from her mother, her legs a little shaky.

"Well, let's see you perform."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Well, I don't know! Anything!"

Amber steps back to give Lily room, then motions her to proceed with the move. Lily does a standing tuck – legs together, with knees fully bent and drawn to her chest. Then she does a full turn of her body on the point of the ball of her foot three times and she finally, finishes with a side split.

Amber claps her hands in delight, while my mouth drops open. So, that's why Lily is so great in performing arts – the minds of best students in Britannia High are transferred into her brain!

"Excellent! With these new gymnastic abilities, you'll be the best dancer in Britannia High," says Amber. "Right, come on; let's get this one in the cage."

By 'this one', she means Cami. Lily goes to Cami and unstraps her wrists and ankles. Cami moans as Lily picks her up from the chair and supports her, taking her in the cage and laying her on the bed. When Lily comes out, Amber closes the gate to the cage and locks it.

"Um… Mum?" Lily says nervously.

"Yes?" says Amber, placing the key of the cage in her bag.

"Well – I –" Lily seems lost for words.

"Spit it out," Amber says impatiently.

"What's gonna happen to these students, now that I have their abilities?" Lily stammers. "The cage is nearly full and there's no room for any more students."

"Huh. Didn't really think this through." Amber looks at the caged students, deep in thought. Then, an evil smile spreads around her mouth as she says, "We'll leave them to rot."

"What?!"

My thoughts exactly.

"You heard me," says Amber. "Now that you have the triple threat abilities you should inherited from me, we don't need to steal any more abilities from the other students. So, we'll leave these students to rot here under Britannia High… forever!"

"Bu-But people are already asking questions about why I'm suddenly so good," says Lily.

"We'll just say that you had private tutoring."

"But what do we say when they start asking about Shannon, Muffy and the others?"

"Well, I don't know – lie, for God's sake! Honestly! I should've transferred an intellectual mind in that thick head of yours."

Lily flinches. Amber's words buzz in the air, sharp as stings.

"Oh Lily. I didn't mean to say that." Amber reaches over and gives Lily a big hug. For a second Lily looks like she might cry. "I'm such a cow for saying it. Oh come on, don't go all moody on me. Look, how about we go for lunch, Lily Pad? My treat. Then after school, we'll figure a way to sort this mess out. OK?"

Lily forces a smile and nods as Amber takes Lily's arm and steers her out of the room, closing the door behind them.

"Deactivate cloaking device," I say. As my body becomes visible once more, the students in the cage gasp and stare at me in horror.

"Who… who are you?" a tall, black-haired girl asks, looking nervous and pale.

"It's OK," I say reassuringly in my Geordie accent, walking up to the girl. "I'm a friend. I'm here to save you. I'm Je… er, I mean, I'm Simone Connors. What's your name?"

"Shannon Carter."

"Do you remember how you got here?"

"Last Tuesday – after school – I was in the dance studio, practising a tap dance routine, when I felt a bite in my neck and I blacked out. Next thing I remember was my body shaking, like I was being electrocuted. I must have slept the day away because when I woke up, I was in this cage, watching in horror as Lily and her mum were giving Muffy the same treatment as they did to me. The same happened to all the others." Shannon gives a big sniff as tears rolls down her cheeks. "And now that Lily has her new talents, her and her mum are gonna leave us down here to rot!"

"Now that is not gonna happen. I'm gonna get you out of here and at the same time, get Lily and Amber to reverse what they did to you, Muffy and the others."

Just then, the door opens, and Lily and Amber walk in the room.

"How can you forget my bag, you…?" Amber gasps when she sees me. "An intruder!" She turns to Lily. "I thought I told you to make sure that no-one was in the theatre, you stupid girl!" she hisses.

"But I did, Mum!" says Lily.

"Alright, Amber, let's make a deal," I say. "How about you release these students, reverse what you did to them and I'm sure MI9 will give you and Lily community service… or at least one year in prison."

"Never!" she says. "My Lillian was meant to have my talents. She was meant to have my award-winning singing, dancing and acting skills. Instead, she inherits her father's writing talents."

"But if Lily wants to be a writer, then you should let her be that. Not force her into something she doesn't want to do – like enrolling her to Britannia High or having her kidnap the students so you can steal their talents. Before you lowered the helmet onto Lily, I saw the flash of misery that she had in her eyes."

"That's enough! My little Lillian is going to be the star of Britannia High with her new talents as well as a brilliant West End musical actress. And there's nothing you can do to stop that."

"I had a feeling you were gonna say that." I get into a martial arts stance.

Amber smiles smugly. "Are you that ignorant enough to beat up a disabled woman or are you that stupid enough not to notice that there's one of you and two of me? Either way, my Lily Pad will take you down."

"Huh?!" says Lily, looking surprised.

"Yes. While examining that Cami girl's brain, I noticed that she has martial arts skills as well as gymnastics skills – so I added that ability to your mind. So how about showing our troublemaker your new kung fu abilities."

"But… but, but Mum…!"

"Oh, don't argue with me, child, just do it!"

I can see tears welling up in behind Lily's glasses as she gets into a martial arts stance. Amber steps aside, so she doesn't get in the way.

"I'm sorry," Lily mouths, a tear rolling down her cheek.

She tries to do a straight punch to my face, but I use my inside forearm to block the inside forearm of Lily's, pushing the punch outward, leaving us facing each other.

"Lily, you don't have to do this," I say, pushing her back.

"Yes, I do. I need to please my mum," she says, trying to do another straight punch to my face, but this time, I use my outside forearm to block the outside forearm of Lily's, pushing the punch outward, leaving me slightly to the side of the strike causing it to miss.

I push her back again. "But why? I've seen how she treats you." I raise my hands to block Lily's roundhouse kick.

"I know my mum can be rough around the edges, but she's like that because I'm hopeless."

Lily tries to throw a punch to my chest, but I do a block and palm strike simultaneously.

"But… but you're not hopeless," I say. "Amber said that you inherited your dad's writing talents, so you must be brilliant at writing – stories, songs, poems. You could maybe write for a musical instead of acting in one – be the next Andrew Lloyd Webber."

"But Mum says that writing doesn't make you a star – acting, singing and dancing does!"

"Well, you mum is wrong. J.K. Rowling and Stephenie Meyer are both writers. Their books have sold millions of copies worldwide _and_ they've been turned into movies. They didn't need Fame-esque talents to get them where they are now. Fame and fortune doesn't have to be about getting your name up in lights – it's about hard work, determination and basically enjoying what you love!"

As I say it, Lily performs a low crescent kick on my ribs. I use this opportunity to grab her right leg (the leg she used to kick me) and use my left leg to kick the back of her left leg, causing her to fall flat on her back.

Amber gasps. "No!" she cries.

Lily sits up, groaning in pain.

"Here." I reach my hand out.

Lily looks up at me. Then she smiles and takes my hand, and I haul her upright. As Lily dusts herself off, Amber marches up to Lily. She's incandescent with fury, her dark eyes sparking up fire, her halo of brown hair almost standing on end.

"You clumsy great oaf!" she says, launching her attack. "How did you manage to get defeated by this… this… _girl_?!" Very ultra-crushing… not! "The reason why I took that Cami girl's karate abilities and gave them to you is because if anyone questions your new-found talents and threatens to tell the head teacher, you can give them a smack-down! Instead, you had your arse handed to you on a plate by this _troublemaker_…" Amber glares at me. "…who turned your new skills against you? I mean really, can't you do anything right, you lazy, got-for-nothing…?"

"Oh Mum, will you _please_ shut the fuck up?!" Lily snaps.

Amber looks shocked. "Excuse me?"

"Ever since you lost your legs, you went from a caring and loving mum to a bitter and mean old woman, hell-bent on making me a West End star, when you know full well that I completely and utterly suck at singing, dancing and acting. I tried to tell you a million times but you refuse to listen. The only reason why I came to Britannia High is because I thought that maybe – _maybe_ – a tiny part of me might have the famous Laurence Olivier-award-winning talents that you have. But when my reports about me lacking the arts came in, you decided to concoct this insane plan of stealing the talents from the students of Britannia High by bizarrely purchasing a mind uploading machine that you got from eBay that some crazy organization called SKUL were selling and tranquilizer darts to knock the students out. Simone is right – fame and fortune is not about having my name up in lights. It's about being creative in what you love – whether it's singing, acting, dancing or what I inherited from Dad – writing. But it's obvious that you care more about fame than you do about me and what I want. Mum, I'm sorry that I'm saying this, but you… are a snob."

Amber's mouth falls open. I don't think anyone, not even Lily, has ever talked back to her before.

"Why, you ungrateful, selfish little cow," she says. "I'll teach you to talk back at me…"

"You'll have to get past me," I say, stepping in front of Lily.

Amber shrugs. "Very well."

She's about to grab me, when suddenly, a light blue bubble catches Amber and traps her inside. I stare at Amber trapped in the sphere, unable to move, with my mouth wide open and my eyes bulging as though I've seen a ghost.

Lily gives me a nudge.

"Look!" she says, pointing to the door.

I glance at Lily's direction. It's Jon. He's standing in the doorway, holding some sort-of hand held bazooka. There's smoke coming out of the barrel.

"Are you OK?" he asks, lowering the gun.

I nod. "Yeah. We're fine."

"How did you know we were down here?" Lily asks.

Jon steps from the doorway, entering the room, pulling out his mobile phone from the back of his jeans.

"GPS app," he replies. "When Cami didn't come back from the toilets, I used my phone to track her. I followed the signal to the theatre and heard the trapdoor moving. I hopped on the platform and came down here and followed the signal to here."

"And the bazooka?" I ask.

Jon blinks. After a slight pause he says, "My uncle got me this from Japan."

"Right," I say slowly. "Look, thanks for saving us. We better call the police and tell them what's happening…"

"This is MI9!" says a male voice.

Five men in heavy body armour burst into the room, their guns pointing at me, Lily, Jon, the students in the cage and the bubble that holds Amber. The MI9 SWAT team!

A second later, a girl enters the room. She looks an inch shorter than Jon, with tan-coloured skin, long dark hair and all dressed in black. Her face is covered with a balaclava, exposing only her dark brown eyes.

"Lower your guns," the girl orders.

The SWAT team do what she says.

The girl stares at the bubble. "I take it the woman in this bubble is the one responsible for this?"

"Yes," says Lily. "My mum. Amber Rubin. I'm her daughter, Lily. I'm also responsible."

"Right. You two, take Amber away."

The two SWAT officers who had their guns pointed at me and Jon roll the bubble with Amber in it out of the room – the girl and the other three officers move out of the way.

The girl walks up to the cage.

"Don't worry, guys, once we've freed you, I'll reverse what Amber and Lily has done to you," she says. She turns to Lily. "Where's the key?"

"It's in my mum's bag," says Lily. "I'll get it."

Lily gets Amber's bag from under the table. She retrieves the key and opens the cage, releasing the students. Next, the mysterious MI9 girl gets to work on reversing the mind uploading effects, with Lily giving the girl her full co-operation. Fifteen minutes goes by and when the last person – that's Cami – gets her skills back, we exit the room. The SWAT officers stay behind to dismantle the mind uploading chairs and have them destroyed.

We walk down the curving tunnel, with only the MI9 girl's torch guiding us. She raises the light as we see the trapdoor platform come into view. Once there, the MI9 girl guides the first five students onto the platform. She flips a switch on the wall and a loud clanking sound makes me nearly jump out of my skin as the platform rises above our heads, climbing back up to the stage. A few minutes later, the platform comes back down again and the girl sends the next five students onto the platform and out of the tunnel. Finally, it's our turn. Me, Jon, Cami, Lily and the MI9 girl board onto the platform and with a flick of a switch, we start to move.

Up, up. Sliding slowly but steadily.

The square of light above our heads grows larger and brighter as we rise back up to the theatre.

As soon as the platform stops, we step off it, greeted with ten other MI9 agents and SWAT officers who guide us off the stage and out of the theatre, except for Lily. Before I leave the theatre, I watch as an MI9 agent places handcuffs on Lily's wrists. She glances at me and gives me a faint smile. I smile back, but it's strained and I leave the theatre and the school. But not before I'm greeted at the foyer by Lola and Grace.

"Simone, there you are!" says Lola. "Where were you? We've been looking everywhere for you. You said that you needed to freshen up in the toilets and that was nearly an hour ago!"

"We went to check if you were in the theatre, but we got stopped by these Men in Black-esque people, saying that it was off-limits. Five minutes later, we see them rolling out a woman in a bubble. What happened?"

I didn't want to be long and boring as I am exhausted, so I decide to cut a long story short.

"Well, let's just say that the mystery of Lily's new talents and the missing students has been solved," I say.

"I knew it," Grace says triumphantly, snapping her fingers. "I said something was going on. Something right off the wall. She had something to do with those disappearances, didn't she?"

I nod. "Unfortunately, yes. But it was her mum, Amber, who came up with the idea."

Just then, two MI9 agents take Lily out of the school and into a black car.

"Poor Lily. I wonder what's going to happen to her," says Lola, watching the black car drive away.

"I'm sure they'll go easy on her," I say.

"Hm. Hey," says Grace. "Because of what has happened, the head teacher has given everyone the rest of the day off school. How about we go into town and do a bit of window shopping?"

"OK," says Lola, immediately perking up.

"Actually –" I glance down at my watch. It reads 2:05 P.M. I have to go back to St Hope's to give my IT lesson – "I'm gonna go home. I'm completely wiped out with the day I had."

"OK. We'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, about that. I don't think I'm gonna return to Britannia High tomorrow… or ever."

"What, why?" Grace groans.

"After the day I've had, I feel that a change in career is needed," I lie smoothly.

"Ohh. I'm gonna miss you." Lola reaches out and hugs me tightly. Grace joins in as well.

We pull apart, smiling.

"Be sure you'll come back and visit," says Grace.

"I promise I will," I say.

We say our goodbyes and I leave the school and walk down the road. I round the corner and navigate myself to the back of Britannia High, where there's a car park. It's deserted – there's no-one around. I open my communicator and end my Geordie disguise by changing back into my catsuit, the dark brown wig that I had on goes back to my raven black locks. I activate my cloaking device and become invisible so that no-one sees me when I leave Britannia High and when I land back at St Hope's. Finally, I activate my Rocket Go-go Boots and launch myself into the air, leaving Britannia High behind me and making my way back to St Hope's.


	18. Acceptance

**(Jenny's POV)**

I arrive at St Hope's eight minutes later, landing at the gates. As soon as my feet touch the ground, I run dart across the playground and into the school, heading for the showers.

Once there, I deactivate my cloaking device and change back into what I originally had on: a towel. I hop in one of the stalls of the showers and have a five-minute wash. After frantically drying myself and shoving my underwear on, I spray on some strawberry body fragrance and get dressed in a yellow sleeveless tunic dress. Teamed with a black cropped bolero with three-quarter length sleeveless, black opaque tights and black platform shoe boots. Clutching my sports bag, I rush off wiggle-waggle in my high heels to the computer room. Past the toilets, round the corner and extra sharpish past Aunt Hermione's office…

"Jenny?"

Or so I thought.

I stop where I am. I sheepishly turn around to face Aunt Hermione. She has her head around the door.

"Would you come in here, Jenny?" she says.

When she disappears behind the door, I hang my head and saunter into the office. Aunt Hermione is sitting at her desk, her hands resting on top of each other and the table. I walk over to her desk and sit down opposite her, dropping my sports bag beside me.

"So…" says Aunt Hermione.

"So…" I echo.

"I take it you know why I called you in here."

I give a little nod.

"There's a rumour going around the school that you and Mr. London were seen together… kissing. Is it true?"

I nod again. "Yes, it is true."

"And is it true that you and Mr. London are a couple?"

"Yes," I say, nodding once more.

There's a pause.

"You know, Jenny, I went looking for you this morning after finding out from two Year Nine girls who were swapping notes in my History lesson about you and Mr. London," says Aunt Hermione. "But since I couldn't find you, I called in Mr. London and he had some… very interesting things to say to me."

"Oh?" I say. "What, er, what did Frank say?"

"He was telling me the only reason why you didn't tell me is because you thought that I would react in a certain way and that I would try and break the two of you up. Then he goes on and says that the reason I don't like the two of you together is because of who he is: a caretaker – one who says he does deserve you. Then Mr. London goes on saying that even though he's just a caretaker, you don't seem to care – you don't mind that he has no proper education or a decent income. Finally, he tells me that if I don't respect the decisions you make… there's a chance that I might… end up being… hated."

Wow. I can't believe Frank said all that. He defended our relationship – to Aunt Hermione of all people. I think I'm in love.

"You know, I have a good mind to have Mr. London fired for the way he spoke to me…"says Aunt Hermione. I swallow. "But then again, Mr. London is one of the very few people who have spoken to me in such a way. I haven't been this bowled over since the day I met your Uncle Richard. Jen, do you really like Frank?"

"Oh yes, Aunt Hermione! So very much," I say. "Frank is sweet, caring and funny, and I know he'll never do anything to hurt me or upset me – he's too much of a nice guy for that." I look at her hopefully. "So? What do you say? Can I be with Frank?"

Aunt Hermione sighs. "If he really means so much to you, Jen," she says, "then yes, you can be with Frank. I… accept your relationship with him."

I hop off my chair and go over and give her a huge hug. "Oh _top_, Aunt H. Thanks, thanks so much."

She smiles, then says with a bit of seriousness in her voice, "But… if I find out that Frank _has_ done something to hurt you or upset you, I will come down on him like a ton of bricks. Understand?"

"Totally." I throw my arms around her again and give her a big kiss. "Thanks again, Aunt H. You're a darling," I say. I catch sight of my watch – it reads 2:23 P.M. "Well, I better get going – I'm already late for my IT lesson."

"No, you're not – your class has been cancelled," Aunt Hermione says before I can reach for my sports bag.

"Cancelled? Why?"

"Apparently, some computer virus has affected _all_ of the computers in the school. I would ask Rose to see if she could fix it, but she's gone to her dentist's appointment."

My phone rings. I take it out from the side pocket of my sports bag and see Zeke's name flashing on the screen.

"I, er… I have to take this, Aunt H," I say, and I leave the office. "Zeke?" I say, answering the phone.

"I'd figured that your mission to Britannia High would take up most of your school teaching day and you'd missed whatever plans you had with Frank, so I decided to… taint the school's computer system with a twenty-four hour virus as I know that IT is your last lesson," he says.

"Zeke! That's… very sweet of you. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Now go – I know you're desperate to get jiggy with your new boyfriend."

"Shut _up_, Zeke," I say – but fondly.

He's such a good friend. After we say our goodbyes and I hang up, I squeal in delight and bounce up the corridor to find Frank and tell him the good news.

**(Frank's POV)**

I'm in the foyer, watering the plants, when my phone rings. Placing the watering can on a nearby table, I take out my mobile from my pocket and answer the call from Rose.

"Hi, Rose," I say.

"Hey, Frank," she says. "I just wanna let you know that we've apprehended Lily and Amber and I've reverse the effects that they've done to the students – including Carrie."

"That's great, Rose, well done. How is Carrie?"

"She's OK, but because of the sedative that Lily used to knock out Carrie, she's gonna be in hospital for a couple of days."

"OK."

"There's something else you should know. Shannon Carter, one of the captured students, told me that there was a female student who not only appeared out of thin air, but she also fought against Lily – who had Carrie's talents. Shannon said that the student's name is Simone Connors. I ran her name into Britannia High's database and nothing came up – there's no such person who attends the school."

"This could only mean one thing: the Cat was there – in disguise."

"Yeah. And we let her get away."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Rose. You didn't know who she was. Anyway, I'll see you and Oscar tomorrow."

"OK. See you later."

Hanging up, I go back to watering the plants. I look at my watch and it says two-thirty. Jenny will be in the computer room, teaching IT. I hope she's not upset with me for cancelling on her. As much as I wanted to spend the day kissing and holding her, my job has to come first. I inhale deeply to let out a huge sigh… only for strawberry fragrance to fill my nostrils. Only one person can smell so good. Looking up, I come face-to-face with Jenny, who's standing at the foyer doorway.

And she looks gorgeous.

"Hi," she says, walking towards me.

"Jenny – hi," I say. "What are doing here? Don't you have a class to teach?"

"It got cancelled. A virus has infected all the computers in the school and Rose isn't here to fix it."

"Ah."

We stand in silence.

"I, er… I just seen Aunt Hermione," says Jenny. "She – She told me what you told her at lunchtime."

"Oh God, I've blown it, haven't I?" I say with a groan as I put the watering can down and put my hand on my forehead. "I shouldn't have spoken to her like that. But I only did it because I care about you…"

"Frank, Frank – it's OK. She accepts it."

I stare at Jenny. "What?"

"Aunt Hermione – she accepts our relationship."

I blink. "Really? Are you serious?"

Jenny nods with a smile.

Smiling back, I pull her close – our arms around each other, feeling warm and secure, and very happy. We kiss – long and hard.

"I can't believe it," I say. "Mrs King – she – what? – I can't believe it."

"She told me that no-one has ever spoken to her like that since the day she met my Uncle Richie," says Jenny. "You're one of the very few people who have spoken to Aunt Hermione like that."

"It's nice to know that I've made an impression… I think."

Jenny giggles. "You know… I should be miffed at you for cancelling our little one-on-one session in the stationery cupboard. B-u-u-t, since you stood up to Aunt Hermione and defended our relationship, I'll forgive you. And at the same time" – she purrs seductively in my ear – "reward you."

I gulp as she plants lazy kisses along the side of my neck.

"Re-really? How – oh God." I shudder as Jenny gently nibbles my ear – something I did to her last week. "H-how are you going to do that?"

Jenny pulls away and takes my hand. "Let's go to the stationery cupboard and find out, shall we?" she says with a wink.

I don't say anything, I just nod. Then Jenny leads me to the stationery cupboard, where we pick up where we left on from Friday.

Oh, Jenny…


End file.
